


Princely Plot Bunny

by risquetendencies



Category: Junjou Romantica, Sekai-ichi Hatsukoi
Genre: All Couples - JR & SIH, Alternate Universe, Drama, Fluff, Love Triangles, M/M, Mpreg, Non-Canon Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-03
Updated: 2015-08-24
Packaged: 2017-12-10 06:19:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 220,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/782802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/risquetendencies/pseuds/risquetendencies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Akihiko spends the day fulfilling his duties as the future king, longing for a different type of existence and the love he's never been lucky enough to find. His realm is filled with many passionate subjects, which leads to heapings of person-to-person drama. </p><p>AU story. M-preg. Warning: Some Non-Canon pairings may come up.</p><p>Features ALL Junjou Romantica and Sekaiichi Hatsukoi pairings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Kingdom Alone

Akihiko straightened up his tie and sighed deeply, tucking a pack of cigarettes in the back pocket of his dress pants. Time to get to his day job; the manuscript he was honing would have to wait until this unpleasantness was handled. If he refused to stand in and do his duty, his father would no longer indulge the man's authorial habits, and given that Akihiko had had to negotiate strenuously to get the elder Usami to agree to his hobby, he was not inclined to lose his privileges.

Shortly after three in the afternoon was when the Crown Prince began holding his usual hearing session, representing his father, Usami Fuyuhiko, in matters personnel with the nobility of their realm. He typically dealt with petitions for land transfer and more intimate matters. Men and women of the higher classes needed to obtain his or the King's permission to marry, and it was also seen as good tactics to have one of the royal men approve of their children's names when they were born.

So, in the end, his day was filled with what he found mundane transactions, but that was what had been decreed for him.

Being that he was the sole legitimate child of the king, there were heaps of pressure put upon him to behave in a correct manner.

What if he didn't want to follow in his father's footsteps? It wasn't as if Akihiko didn't have dreams and aspirations of his own. By following orders he was giving up on what could easily lead to true happiness. His novels were extremely important to him. That was where his joy lay. Being able to write was not part of the "Grand Plan" that had been laid out for him though. Sure, he could do it on the side, but that wasn't what his heart wanted.

At present his heart was more immersed in what to do to the main character in his latest creation. The prince had a few ideas running throughout his head regarding the matter. The idea at the forefront of his brain was to involve the main character in an accident wherein the love interest would need to take care of the main character. During this time they could get closer to one another and learn about things that weren't what they had seemed to be to begin with.

It was a good idea and Akihiko almost wanted to turn around and write it down before he lost the thought, but he was stopped in the hallway by one of the meal planners.

"Well?" Akihiko asked, looking down on the girl.

"Sorry, your highness," she said with a deep bow of respect. "I didn't mean to stop you, but I need your approval to use green peppers in one of the dishes served tonight. I know his highness doesn't like green peppers, but your father specifically requested I put them in the dish and hide them from you. I didn't think that was..."

Akihiko smiled. He liked it when the staff ignored his father's request and let him in on the secrets of the dishes served. Like a letch he leaned in and about pinned her to the wall with a sly look in his eyes.

"I appreciate you telling me beforehand. Put in the peppers, but just let me know what dish has them so I can avoid it like the plague. Maybe I'll even reward you for a job well done later."

He had no intentions in following through with the offer, but the way she stammered and ran off without a second glance was a beautiful sight. If he wasn't allowed to play with the staff, then who could he play with?

Besides, Hiroki wasn't around at that particular moment, which meant he had to think of ways to keep himself occupied and entertained on his own.

Speaking of Hiroki, he was probably waiting for him. If Akihiko didn't want to end up under the slighter man's gaze again, he'd need to hurry and get his ass to where it belonged. Oh, the life of a monarch was not what he wanted.

 

* * *

 

Shinobu, when it got right down to it, had the capacity to be patient.

The problem today, however, was that he had already practiced being patient for nearly four years, and he was only human. It had to end sometime, after he used up his store of fortitude. A further accelerant was the fact that his sister and brother-in-law were finally, lawfully separated, and now free to remarry or pursue other interests. Shinobu hoped to be Miyagi's new interest, and additionally, his re-, and most importantly _final_ marriage.

The teen had been madly, passionately in adoration of the older man before the first wedding, but the event in question had rendered him unable to profess his love nor act on it until this very day.

Afternoon found Shinobu loitering in the antechamber that led to the Great Hall where the Crown Prince held his hearings. He was going to ask permission to become betrothed to, and therefore propose to, Miyagi. He had not yet consulted with his intended, but it wasn't entirely necessary to do so given the laws of the realm. He had one great advantage on his side; he was from a very respectable family.

Whatever he might have opined about his family _members_ , that he was a Takatsuki was, in of itself, a lucky thing, as it granted him a lot of privilege. His father was the king's Minister of Education, and his mother was from another noble house. He had been told that her great worth at the time of his parent's marriage had been a large dowry, as she had a brother to inherit the main estate. Nothing more romantic than that.

Shinobu also had one sibling, an older sister, but because he had been born a boy his claim took precedence over hers, a fact which deep down he had to admit tickled his sense of righteousness. If it had been the other way around, he would have been rather stifled by duty to her. As it stood, he could make the moves that he wanted.

Outsiders really wouldn't understand, but he didn't get along with Risako at all, and he would have hated for her to have a one-up on him with which to lord over his head (not like she didn't already try such devices, being the elder sibling). They'd had a rocky relationship since Shinobu was about twelve. He couldn't for the life of him remember how it had begun, but the biggest factor was when he was around fifteen, and she'd gone out and married the solitary person whom he liked for himself.

Shinobu was not the type of youth to have many 'crushes.' He didn't fall for a different face every week.

In fact before he had come upon Miyagi, he could not remember a single time that he had warmed to another human in that way. He had always been interested in other things. So when the incident had occurred, it had been a pretty powerful blow to the young lordling. To think that the one time he opened his heart, his chances were dashed, was incredibly disconcerting. Even more somber was the possibility of the marriage actually working, of seeing them grow old together, happy, raising a family - passing him right by. It had depressed him, but it had soon become apparent, almost a year in, that it was no love match.

His hope had rallied, and he'd resolved himself to endure, and to wait. Today, that waiting paid off.

Putting that all aside though, the reason his lineage was valuable in his romantic pursuit was that the law clearly stated that if a person of a higher status proposes to one of lower status, they have to agree to marry. Another factor was the permission of the Crown Prince or of the King himself. With that as a back-up, then no really could not be said. However, if the lower status party were to petition for an annulment of their engagement, then that was another story entirely.

Shinobu with all his heart did not want to have to take these considerations into play, but they were there all the same. Actually, he did not think he would have the stomach to force Miyagi if it happened that the man were to refuse to accept him. Convince him to fall in love? Yes. Coerce him to marry without his consent? Assuredly not.

While he was waiting, he spied a married couple who were first in line before him to see the prince. The pair consisted of a shorter man with jet black hair and round, chocolate-hued eyes who looked to be around Shinobu's age, and a towering cinnamon-haired man with an almost sparkling aura engulfing him. Though he wasn't looking per se, he could tell that the second would attract a lot of eyes to him, as he had traditionally handsome features, and wore a calm smile that made him seem eminently approachable.

Shinobu didn't recognize the duo from anywhere, but perhaps he would've if he were one of the types of courtesans who came to these hearings regularly, to fill up on gossip or suck up to the royal heir. Many of his classmates participated in that charade, but it wasn't his scene. Or maybe these two didn't attend the hearings either. He had no idea about their life.

The latter male was pushing a double stroller, rocking the contraption back and forth in a lulling motion. When Shinobu peered closer, he could see two sleeping infants riding in the stroller; both appeared to be girls by their outfits. They were swathed in matching pink velvet gowns with a similarly colored blanket tucked in over top of them. Both babies were wearing miniature lace caps over their head to keep warm, and Shinobu's heart started at the adorable sight without warning.

Someday he wanted to have children of his own and this was only cementing his determination to do so.

He turned his gaze away, only intending to wait his turn and not bother anyone, but he was feeling antsy, and that drew the others' attention onto him naturally. One moment he was hanging around, glaring at his feet, and the next, he heard the swivelling sounds of wheels coming his way, and saw the taller man from one place up in the queue rolling he and his daughters a bit closer.

"Good afternoon!" the man called out jovially, sweeping Shinobu a light bow.

Surprised, Shinobu made a return prostration and then straightened up again. When he looked, the black-haired male was headed their way, sporting a look of confusion that equaled the teen's at present. All in all the second man appeared uncomfortable to be here at all, and Shinobu wondered if this wasn't perhaps his first trip to a hearing. Or at the very least, he didn't frequent the court.

"Good afternoon," Shinobu echoed, and then, figuring he should at least introduce himself, he gave out his name.

"I am Yukina Kou," the brunet responded, "and this is my husband, Kisa-san."

At that, the named spouse rolled his eyes, as if Yukina had said something silly, and spoke. "It's nice to meet you, Takatsuki-kun. Waiting for the Prince to roll out of bed and hear your petition?" he quipped, eyes dancing mildly.

"Yes, I suppose," he answered, guardedly. "It's late in the day, isn't it?"

Kisa nodded his head thoughtfully. "Three is the end of a day for some people, so yeah, it's pretty late. Kind of makes you wonder what Prince Akihiko does with his days, if he won't show up until this time to say hello to the world. Anyway... so what are you here for?"

Just then, one of the babies in the stroller made a quiet mewling sound, having just woken up from her rest. Both parents flicked their eyes to her on instinct, but Yukina was the one to walk around the contraption and see what was amiss. He unbuckled her from where she was bundled next to her still slumbering twin and hoisted her into his arms, bouncing her slightly in mid air.

"Did you have a good nap, Kana-chan?" Yukina cooed, and somehow the tone didn't make him sound ridiculous, like it might've with anyone else but this sparkling prince type fellow.

"Ah, Takatsuki-kun, these are our daughters, Kana and Rui. That is, if the Prince approves of their names. That's what we're here today to petition about."

"So you had twins?" Shinobu directed this question at Kisa, as he was clearly the more delicate of the two.

"I did, actually!" Yukina stepped in, smiling luminously, not seeming perturbed at the mistake on Shinobu's part like Kisa showed he was.

"I was so excited when I learned that I had conceived Kisa-san's child. And then we found out there were two of them growing together, and that was a beautiful day as well. Of course when they were born was the ultimate highlight of my life."

"All I could really think was ' _thank goodness they're girls,_ '" Kisa interjected quietly. "I don't know what I would have done with a boy. Things are already so pink in my everyday life that it would have been a major shock to the system."

"You are a wonderful father, Kisa-san, and that isn't dependent on gender."

"Careful now," Kisa finally perked up and jibed at his enthusiastic husband, "because I don't care what you say, Yukina. We are not having a third one."

"We'll see," Yukina replied contrarily, but in an agreeable sort of way.

Shinobu wondered how many children he would want to have himself, and if they'd look like Miyagi or not. He hoped they did, because he didn't really think his own looks were all that appealing.

He also hoped that he'd be able to have a son, because when he imagined it, he could easily see Miyagi teaching their boy about life, guiding him, and Shinobu thought that the old man might enjoy the experience. Boys were typically preferred to girls amongst the higher classes. For him it didn't matter either way to be honest. He wanted both sons and daughters if it was his choice.

Thinking about it made him yearn even more for the day that they were joined, and the youth clenched his hands into fists at his side, trying to suppress the urge a little longer. He needed to keep his composure and make the royal agree to his petition, or his chances would be much lower of having his dreams come true.

"So, Takatsuki-kun, what did you say your petition was concerning?"

 

* * *

 

"Good morning, old man."

"Good afternoon, _your highness_." Hiroki's lips smarted ever so slightly at the honorary title.

It was a routine for them to give that greeting, even though it had never realistically been a morning hour when they came together to hold council. Hiroki was his most trusted advisor, and the two had grown up by each other's side. The prickly lordling was descended from a long line of statesmen; among his genealogy were many Lord Protectors and Ministers of various designations, and the twenty-four year old did not tarnish the family name by his own considerable brilliance. To Akihiko, he was indispensable.

"Well, shall we crack on?" he put forth, an amused cant to his voice.

"Yes, so some people can go back to important work."

"Hiroki, you always sound so displeased to be here. Can it be that you've found some other passion in life that exceeds hearing these requests?" Akihiko rattled off dramatically, an undercurrent of sarcasm detectable.

He knew very well that neither of them enjoyed this part of the day, but in Akihiko's mind at least he had the fiery brunet around to make things a little less humdrum. Also, to listen closely when he might have feigned interest in someone's petition and not recorded a word they had said. Hiroki was meticulous and could be entrusted with tasks like that.

Hiroki scoffed at the notion.

"I don't have time to find another passion in life, because I am already busy looking after a certain overgrown toddler so that he doesn't lose interest and wander off in the middle of the proceedings. But you wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"

Akihiko ignored the barb, kept it at that, and gingerly seated himself in his throne to begin the session.

After all, it was true that the earlier one began, the earlier one would finish. Perhaps the time intervening might drag on slowly, but in the space of actual hours each hearing lasted the same amount. Then, he could get back to his writing.

Ideas were swirling around his consciousness. He was considering a broken leg for the protagonist. It was serious enough to merit the healing time during which the love interest could grow to open up to the main character, but not so serious that it would impair him for life. A tragedy was not something he needed to be penning at this time.

Akihiko was thinking that perhaps this injury could be taken on behalf of the love interest, which is why they would feel obligated to care for the protagonist at all. ' _Yes, that might serve...._ '

"First, for a petition of naming, Yuki- Ah, pardon me, Your Highness; there has been a change in the order of appointments, it seems. So now, seeking a petition for betrothal, Shinobu of house Takatsuki."

Into the Great Hall stepped a youth with straw-blond hair and luminous gray eyes, tall, with a slender body hugged by the tailored uniform he was wearing. By the looks of it, it appeared the boy attended studies under one of the renowned tutors here in the capital. Due to the time of the hearing, he must have just been released from classes before traveling this way.

Akihiko raised a brow at the teen's serious expression as he approached, and as soon as he had settled in and made the customary bow, the prince asked, "Just how old are you, Takatsuki-kun?"

"I'm eighteen, Your Highness."

"And already you are wanting to get engaged? That seems hasty of you."

"I've been in love with him for a few years, my prince, so I don't think it is hasty."

The boy's angular face seemed to be fending off a petulant look, and that appealed to Akihiko in a droll way. He found that, despite himself, he was curious to know the story behind it. The truth might end up being the same trite tale, of a teenage couple jumping on the marriage boat, possibly the girl even being pregnant which sped up the process, but there was that chance it wouldn't be. As an author, he did enjoy a captivating story where he could find it.

"Do your parents approve?"

"It doesn't matter if they do!" Shinobu responded quickly, a flush of color rising in his cheeks. "I'm old enough to make my own choice. I won't let them choose for me. It's _my_ destiny."

Akihiko's lip quirked.

"And who is it you would like permission to marry? You know it is not necessarily required to have this permission. Only after a betrothal agreement has been made between you and your intended, then that would be proper time to make a petition."

"I will marry Miyagi Yoh." Shinobu's voice rang and quavered, though he surreptitiously glanced around, as if to challenge anyone to refute him.

In the chair next to - and slightly below - Akihiko, Hiroki's eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

On occasion, he worked with Miyagi at the capitol's university, and he was fairly certain he had never seen anything to indicate that this boy was infatuated with the man. Never once while he had been there had Shinobu been around. Though, it could be that he wasn't there enough. Truthfully, he hadn't been at the university much over the past few months, so perhaps it was a recent problem. Being Akihiko's advisor was time consuming. They spent a great portion of the day together; not that Hiroki minded, given his... inclinations toward the man.

Still, Hiroki recognized the boy's surname. Takatsuki. A respected noble house.

Was he completely off, or wasn't that the professor's ex-wife's surname? He was certain it was.

Hiroki started a new page on the ledger he kept with him, and wrote down this observation before handing the note over to the prince. It was more convenient to pass a note than to step out of the room every time he needed to discuss a point with his royal companion.

Akihiko eyed Shinobu before scanning the paper, absorbing the words. To Hiroki's slight dismay, the camber of the prince's lips deepened. The information, rather than becoming a concern, became a reason to delve further in his investigation.

It was times like now when Hiroki thought to himself that Akihiko desperately needed more hobbies.

"You are aware there is a large age gap between your ex brother-in-law and yourself?" Akihiko put forth. At the 'brother-in-law,' Shinobu outright grimaced, but stood his ground nonetheless.

"Yes. I've known that from the beginning."

"I see. Then, have you thought about who will have the children? He is after all, of lower standing..."

Several of the surrounding courtesan's ears pricked up at this, and a few, mostly females began to titter their own guesses amongst themselves. Shinobu eyed a few of them peripherally, feeling embarrassed. He could sense them sizing him up, and it did nothing to boost his confidence. Maybe he wasn't that much to look at, but they didn't have to _gawk_ at him! He was aware that he wasn't too spectacular, but he at least was willing to make this sacrifice for his future husband. It would make him happy to have Miyagi's children.

"I will, of course!" he muttered resolutely.

"I am sure," Akihiko began, drawing upon his own experience, "that your father at the least would want you to attend university, as his heir. Would this not impede upon your studies? Having a spouse, and children is not something to be taken on lightly; it eats at the majority of a person's days, and so I hope you have given it some rumination. If not, I am afraid I cannot in good conscience grant your request. You are young and should think carefully about how you want to spend your youth."

"I have given it thought, your highness. If I have a baby I'll go to school for as long as I can, and then take time off. I'm not concerned about it."

Akihiko gave the little lordling a last glance over. He did seem resolute in his choice, and if he could stand fast even under this questioning, then perhaps that meant that it was the proper decision to grant his request. 

"Very well, Takatsuki-kun, I will allow your petition."

"Thank you, my prince." Shinobu rocked back on his heels, seeming relieved. As soon as he'd composed himself, he made his exit, not sticking around to hear any of the other cases.

After the teenager came a few mundane petitions. One of naming, and a few were concerning some business transactions, including one revised will. Akihiko heard them all in succession, and made a final choice one way or the other on each. It was truly nothing out of the ordinary, and he spent most of his time stewing on other affairs internally.

Toward the end of the session though, some familiar faces emerged, and necessitated his attention. Neither of the two following petitions were held by people he cared for very much.

"For a petition of naming, Lord Isaka Ryuuichirou and his spouse, Isaka Kaoru."

Isaka was leading their eldest son by the hand as they walked in, the very tips of their fingers linked. He wore a sharp-edged smile, every inch the protective father. His gaze dared those around to so much as look at them in the wrong way, and their name would go on his list. And if Akihiko were trying to be impartial, he knew that there were some nobles that looked down on the man for having borne his commoner husband's child, when such a thing was considered 'unusual.' Some simply couldn't stomach the man, and that, the prince could identify with.

It was always difficult to ascertain the lord's mood, as he was the type to grin invitingly whilst plotting mischief in his mind. He put on many playful airs, but Akihiko knew personally just how calculating Isaka could be, beneath the surface.

The older child was his other father in miniature, with dark sandy hair and muted russet eyes - though he looked out through them with an expression of wonder that was not customary of either of his parents. Isaka Hideyoshi was sweet-faced and though Akihiko wasn't interested in the concept of having his own offspring, he did love the simple innocence of children. It reminded him of that which he felt he lacked in his own upbringing, and so he watched the boy stroll along. He would much rather deal with kids than with a noble like Hideyoshi's father.

Asahina followed behind them with a governess and the new infant, composed as ever. The prince's memory was like a steel trap, and he commented to himself that the man looked far better for the wear than his spouse had been with the first son. Perhaps there was something in the old wives' tale that when it came to men and childbearing, sturdier bodies fared better. With women, it was said to come down to hip width.

The posse drew up close to the throne, all bowing their heads and waiting patiently to be acknowledged.

Akihiko gave a nod and motioned for one of them to state their petition. He was glad that he only had to go through the charade for an hour or two a day; any longer and it would be tiresome, and the prince was already starting to lose his patience. He was yearning to return to his own chambers and take up something that interested him more than this infernal chore.

Isaka let go of Hideyoshi's hand, and motioned for the governess to step forward with the baby as if to showcase him.

"As you can see, Your Highness, Asahina has been kind enough to present me with a son finally, after I so graciously gave him one four years ago," Isaka lauded.

Akihiko noted with amused indifference how the lord continued to call his husband by the man's surname from before their marriage. It seemed to be akin to a nickname for the businessman, and the cogs of his brain turned and clanked, stowing the notion away for later. In a way it was an endearing practice, something that might serve very well for the characters of the novel the prince was penning currently. He could make use of it.

"And what would you like to name the child?"

"Kichirou is the name we have selected, Your Highness."

Akihiko nodded at this. In reality, it was all the same to him. Because he wasn't thinking about it in the manner of a parent, names came and went without his truly liking or disliking them. So long as the name wasn't ridiculous, or inappropriate, he accepted them without question.

"You may use that name," he responded with a tone of finality.

The less time he spent on it, the better. In any event, he only had one more petition left given that his allotted time period was almost over, and only one could be attended to in that period.

Isaka and his group, instead of leaving like others, shuffled off to one side of the hall, presumably to watch the last hearing. That in itself might have tipped Akihiko off about who was coming in, as whilst waiting outside, Isaka would have been privy to who was after him, but at the time the prince wasn't contemplating anything very carefully, the goal of leaving firmly planted in his crosshairs.

"And now enter the next subjects for the Prince's hearing, who seek a petition for marriage. Announcing Lord Usami Haruhiko..."

The prince's keen violet eyes narrowed. It was rare that he was forced to meet with his half-brother, and he had always preferred it that way. To tell truth, the two, though they shared their father's blood, shared little else in common, and their natures, when together, caused any peace to implode.

Akihiko had to acknowledge that this entrance surprised him. He hadn't known Haruhiko was courting anyone, and it would be fascinating to see what, or rather who, had caught the stoic man's eye, if only to satisfy his strange sense of curiosity. He drew himself up to full height in his seat, and listened closely to catch the name of the would-be fiancé, or fiancée, if his brother truly wished to throw him a curve ball.

"And his intended groom, Takahashi-"

His heart roiled, plummeted, and quite nearly ceased to beat. In Hiroki's, something was born.

**.**

**.**

**END CHAPTER.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Minor edits completed: 07/09/2015.


	2. With No Love To Confess

And what was born was quickly extinguished when the full introduction was read out.

Hiroki, once he recovered his composure, admitted freely to himself that he was over-eager, behaving like he was. To expect to hear that _idiot_ 's name rung out in the great hall was hoping for a mountain where existed only a mole hill. Even if the herald had announced Takahiro's surname, that meant nothing as to the actual identity of the person in question. Takahashi had to be a common enough moniker.

"And his intended groom, Takahashi - Misaki."

Still, it stung when he realized the truth, and downright cut him through when he could feel the palpable aura of relief rolling off of the prince's shoulders. That no, it wasn't Takahiro getting married to his half-sibling, but just Takahiro's younger brother instead. The same brother that had kept Akihiko from spending a lot of time that he would have liked to spend with Takahiro, simply because the man in question had to raise his younger sibling on his own from a young age. Akihiko must be pleased to be relieved of that burden.

And now that boy was grown up - or eighteen, that was - and Haruhiko had taken a fancy. That was a new development to him. The lord must have courted the youth in secret if it was coming as a surprise now.

Hiroki wondered wryly just _what_ it was about Usamis and Takahashis that made made them so irresistible to one another. Did their make-up contain some magnetic force that drew them together? Or was it merely because of the oppositional appeal of easy-going minds meeting complex ones? That was as best as he could ascertain from his standing.

But what did he know? He was a Kamijou. Only just Akihiko's foster brother from childhood. They had played together, studied together, and had been friends throughout their shared lifetime. All that time? It left him no actual claim on the silver-haired scion. If anything it was a buffer, keeping him from advancing one level in the man's heart, causing him to be constantly overlooked as nothing more than a treasured companion. Treasured being relative to the day and mood, of course.

Hiroki turned his face downward, scowling at his ledger, and left the business of marriage up to those whose duty it was.

Meanwhile, Akihiko was regaining his calm after that sudden hiccup in the proceedings. He let the worry flee his visage, and turned to regarding his half-sibling and the man's fiancé, who were making their way toward the dais.

Unsurprisingly, his brother seemed blank-faced, probably not wanting to betray his emotion to Akihiko. How it must humble him to have to ask permission... Akihiko grinned like a cat with a mouse, but all internally. Not like he wasn't liable to grant the request, but still, the idea of the arrangement tickled him.

There was something that fundamentally rubbed him the wrong way about Haruhiko marrying Takahiro's younger brother, but given it did not technically impede his own interests, Akihiko was inclined to leave it be.

The prince was tempted to ask if his older brother had asked permission of their sire when proposing to the commoner. He knew better than to pull that card though. It was a futile question, and would seem abominably petty to inquire about.

Their father, though acutely concerned when it came to the topic of Akihiko's marriage prospects, had little interest in meddling with Haruhiko's. King Fuyuhiko had done right by his illegitimate son in the eyes of propriety. When it happened that a monarch had a child out of wedlock, it was customary to award them some land or title befitting their parentage, but they were not actually placed within the royal succession because of their illicit birth. Because Haruhiko did not play into the succession, Fuyuhiko more or less did not care where or if the man married. Any issue stemming from the marriage would inherit those lands granted to Haruhiko, nothing else.

"So, you found someone who will put up with you," he greeted Haruhiko evenly as the pair drew up in front of him.

At his brother's side, the young Misaki stared up at the prince suddenly, looking quite bewildered at the comment, as if he could not believe that Akihiko had uttered it. He was of course, probably the only person in the room it came as a shock to. The courtesans were well informed of the two Usami brothers' rocky relationship with one another. Most tried to stay well out of it, however, unlike with other noble drama.

"I love him," Haruhiko responded, in an equally controlled tone. He glanced softly at the young man at his side, and took Misaki's hand. "And for whatever reason, he accepted my proposal, so I have cause to believe he might feel the same way."

Misaki colored a pale rose at the words and the gesture, and Akihiko studied him. What manner of person did it take to fall for his brother? He did vaguely wonder.

The prince waved his hand dismissively. "Very well, I grant your petition."

With that decision, his duties were through, and Akihiko could be free to do whatever his own heart desired. And even though ideas were still afoot for the new novel he wanted to pen, with these recent developments, the prince had changed his mind. He would rather occupy his time with Takahiro, if only to reassure himself that the man was still oh so accessible. He needed the reassurance. In any event, it was the man's birthday.

Dinner would be a good choice.

 

* * *

 

A few hours later, when the time had been agreed upon, Akihiko made his way out of the capitol, and to the ring of city just outside the gates, where commoners resided. As per the rules, he had to have a chauffeur that way, but he was able to weasel his way out of having a guard stay by his side. There was simply no room in his patience to have his time with his friend intruded upon.

Of course, it summarily was, without his consent.

When he arrived at Takahiro's flat, it was his younger brother that opened the door to admit him, though mercifully he appeared to be sans Haruhiko at this hour.

"Usami-sama, uhm, good evening!" Misaki enunciated each syllable carefully in a manner that made the prince wonder if he stumbled with pronouncing his words. Given that he had never had occasion to hear the teen speak before, it very well could be.

The title was more proper than Akihiko had allowed - he had thought to let Misaki call him the same as his brother, but he made no move to correct the boy. It made no difference to him either way.

"Would you like to come in? Nii-chan isn't here right now but he says that he will be back soon for dinner and to see you."

"Ah. Thank you, Misaki. He informed me of that before I came, and I would be delighted to wait inside."

The prince strolled inside through the door held open for him, and gave a cursory look around. He had only been in here maybe once or twice growing up, having spent most of his times with Takahiro out around the capitol, taking him places and normally paying his way.

The flat that his unrequited owned felt dreadfully claustrophobic to Akihiko, but he had heard that commoners normally considered this a mean size, and that it was good for a family, for parents and children, or, he supposed, two brothers living alone.

The walls were painted a terracotta shade, and the floors were all pine throughout, appearing spartan. The only decorations that seemed to be around were a whole wall of pictures - some of Takahiro, some of Misaki, and some of their late parents, including a wedding photograph. Akihiko supposed that if he had had that same warm family experience, it might have been something that intrigued him, but, being as his childhood was, he overlooked its positive qualities for the most part. Though, he would have liked to have some of the pictures of Takahiro for his own keeping.

Misaki led him out of the threshold through to the main room, that seemed to serve as a combination of dining and living room. The dining room table was already laid out with four place settings and four water glasses, and if he strained, he could smell some manner of cooking emanating from the next room over, probably their kitchen.

Akihiko grabbed the seat at the head of the table. It was the place due to him by structure, and it was also the only chair which would have allowed him to sit next to the man that he loved on his birthday. Therefore he staked his claim early.

"Should I get you something to drink, Usami-sama?" Misaki asked, again saying the latter slowly. Did the kid have trouble with M's or S's, or something of that nature? Akihiko did have to wonder. "We have wine, water, milk...err, I mean you probably wouldn't want milk, but we do have it...!"

He gave the youth a full look over, and put on a diplomatic smile. "Wine."

"All right, I will go and get it, please wait... err, I will be right back, Usami-sama, with that..."

Misaki strode over to a nearby door, sliding it open, and from his vantage the prince confirmed that it was indeed the kitchen.

While the youth went searching for the wine, Akihiko observed him, taking in his measure. The more time he was spending here, the less he was prepossessed by the boy, in either personality or appearance. As Misaki had grown up, Takahiro had spent a lot time at home with him when he was not working, which to tell the truth had cut into Akihiko's time with his dear friend, and he had never been too patient about that fact. And then, when Takahiro could finally go out with him, he spent half the time bragging about his cute little brother and how wonderful Misaki was.

So far, Akihiko wasn't seeing the cause of that.

And Haruhiko wanted to marry this young man? Maybe his brother's eyesight really was worse than anyone knew.

Misaki was of a puny height for a boy of his age. Not abominably short, but a sort of in between or average that seemed insubstantial. That combined with the waifish frame, and the boy was slender to a fault. When it came time to bear children, as Akihiko knew his brother was probably going to want (anything to try and please Father), Misaki simply didn't look up to it in his opinion, unless he had some wicked inner strength that he was not currently alluding to, or unless Akihiko had no idea what he was talking about.

Misaki's hair was a dark brown color, perfectly commonplace, and his complexion trended toward a sallow sort of tan. Perhaps his only real feature that one couldn't deny was the teen's large emerald eyes that seemed to flutter with any emotion that trespassed over his face. They were framed with long lashes, almost as a woman's, and he had to concede that most people would have found them attractive.

Akihiko had to wonder if the two brothers really were related, because he looked nothing like Takahiro to the prince's discerning eye.

"I hope that you will like this one, your highness."

Misaki came back with an opened bottle of white vintage, and carefully poured out a glass for Akihiko. The older man took it with a smile and a nod, raising it to his lips for an investigative sip. The drink was not of a bad quality per se, and it would suit him for the time being.

"This will be splendid," he responded.

"I'm glad!"

Misaki nervously sat to his left side, and Akihiko could tell that it made him feel strange to be sitting so closely to a prince. Not surprising, but perhaps he would become more comfortable when his brother arrived.

"Misaki, where did you meet my half-brother for the first time?" he asked, swirling the wine carefully in his glass.

"I ended up being Haruhiko-san's personal chef in his household, Usami-sama, and that is how we met," Misaki answered, an undercurrent of happiness in the response that Akihiko didn't quite comprehend.

On the other hand though, that did explain a lot about their engagement.

Haruhiko went out more often than Akihiko cared to, but it probably would have be hard to resist the first catch that conveniently wound up in your own home. A commoner too, a partner with whom you would never have to butt heads, even when married to them, because in the beginning they had been of lower status than you. A few lordlings in the past had gone this route, rather than marry a society child, who would have a mind of their own, and the blue blood to back it up.

"Mmm," he began, "And Takahiro acquired you the work, did he?"

"Yes, Usami-sama, nii-chan did. He had worked with Haruhiko-san on a project a few years ago, and I guess he was bragging about a lunch I had made for him. It came to Haruhiko-san's attention, and then he wanted to interview me to be his chef, because his last one had left when she got married."

"How long have you been working there?"

"About three years, my prince."

Akihiko took a long sip.

"I see."

He was running out questions that he could think to ask, as he didn't have much interest in hearing any intimate details, at least not about a couple that Haruhiko was half of, and what else did Misaki and he have in common to talk about? Nothing, except Takahiro, perhaps, and Akihiko already considered himself somewhat of an expert on the topic. He had been enamored of the man for many years, so he ought to have been.

"Misaki, where did your brother say he was going to be?"

"Oh, nii-chan was going to go pick-up Manami-san, I think, and she is coming to dinner." Misaki eyed the fourth place setting significantly.

"I see. So, that will be... delightful," Akihiko provided listlessly.

In truth he had thought the fourth setting was for show, to lay out a complete table. At his own dining table at home the servants always laid out a complete range of settings even if he was the only diner that night; it was just seen as more aesthetic that way. But, his hypothesis was now proven invalid. The woman was coming over, so it appeared he would be unable to fully enjoy Takahiro's company as he would have preferred to.

They sat in a pointed silence for the next ten minutes, Akihiko occasionally sipping at his drink, and Misaki drifting in and out of the kitchen to check on his dishes until, finally, he determined to wait it out in there. There seemed to be no chance of conversation forthcoming from his one guest, and Misaki felt awkward to be sitting next to someone who wasn't saying a word.

When the front door clattered open however, the boy emerged from the kitchen to go greet his brother. Akihiko stood, but did not progress to the doorway, figuring it was a waste of energy when Takahiro would soon be headed that way. With his guest.

When the couple joined them, it brought an infusion of joyful noise to the quiet apartment, and they sat down to dinner. Akihiko observed achingly as the atmosphere seemed warmer and warmer between the three other occupants in the room. First it was their happy greeting of one another like a family, then the woman helping Misaki bring the dishes to the table, Takahiro patting his brother on the back and praising the food, Manami adding in her compliments, and finally, Misaki smiling and thanking them.

Akihiko honestly was not sure how he made it through most of the meal without reacting to the milieu. Most of the meal, because, near the end, some news items were shared that sent the prince into a considerable plummet.

"I'm really glad that you were both able to come tonight, Usagi, Misaki... because we have something to tell you both!" Takahiro's eyes darted over to his girlfriend, who beamed almost as large as he at the beginning of the declaration.

"We're getting married!"

Akihiko plain stared, unable to formulate a response due to his sudden stupor in any other fashion than that. Misaki on the other hand, hailed them with a healthy cry of, "Congratulations!"

To add insult to his injury, Misaki spoke next, keeping the happy-happy theme kicking.

"Actually, nii-chan, I have something to tell you about too. As, um, you may know, I went to court with Haruhiko-san today, and there was a reason for that. I... that is to say, we, are also going to be married. Haruhiko-san and I are engaged!"

"Ah, Misaki, that's wonderful news!" Takahiro cried, a goofy big grin spreading across his face.

"Yes, how lovely," his fiancée added, a rather tamer smile being her contribution.

"Thank you, nii-chan, nee-san. I'm surprised that it happened on the same day though!" Misaki chuckled quietly. "Isn't that a funny coincidence?"

"It is. It must be a good luck day today then, if we've all found happiness."

Akihiko's stomach churned at the phrase. Though he had restrained himself from ever having ill thoughts of his unrequited, this was one instance in which the prince thought 'speak for yourself' in a rather venomous mental tone. Alas, he smiled pleasantly through to the outside world, and kept his musings to himself. He was clearly not in a healthy state of mind right now, and it would be best to keep congenial until he was safely alone to wallow.

This atmosphere was suffocating.

"Now it's your turn, Usagi," Takahiro encouraged, clapping his companion on the shoulder manfully. "I expect you'll marry some nice young noblewoman, huh?"

Akihiko pondered what would be a polite response to that. He looked up from where he had been staring in his lap, and his gaze unexpectedly locked on Misaki's, the boy's vivid green irises staring right back at him for a heavy moment before they both looked away.

"Misaki-kun, have you and he set a date for your wedding, or anything like that?" Manami wanted to know. Her large brown eyes gleamed softly, and probably would have been considered pretty by anyone but Akihiko, who glanced at the woman from the side of his eye, feeling bile bubble up at the thought of her being the most important person in Takahiro's life, the one who held him at night, and captured his undivided attention.

"No, we haven't had the time to do any planning yet, nee-san. Haruhiko-san proposed to me on my birthday, and then we only were given permission today," Misaki directed a look at the prince, "so it's all really new. Maybe soon we will think about those things, but so far, no."

"You'll have to let us know when you do, Misaki, that way I can make sure we will have the whole day to be there." Takahiro smiled at his little brother, fondness dominating each curve of the man's expression.

"Speaking of... Usagi, I was wondering if you wouldn't mind... being my best man? I understand if there is some precedent that would keep you from doing so for my wedding, but you were the first person I thought of for the job." The elder Takahashi turned to the prince, still grinning, although with a different tint to the way he did. This one was familiar, and he seemed to be smiling in a way to emphasize his big question.

Akihiko had always loved how Takahiro smiled at him - until this particular instance.

A blind stab of pain pierced his innards, but he strained and he thought he succeeded in keeping a neutral expression despite that.

"I will have to see about that. Perhaps... Hiroki would know about that kind of rule. You'll forgive me if I can't answer straight away?"

"Of course! We're not eloping tomorrow, so there is plenty of time."

'Time, for this ache to grow wider,' the prince thought, desolately.

His thoughts were interrupted before they had occasion to progress any further down the spiral at that time. They were distracted by a sudden question launched at him by Misaki, who had out of nowhere gotten out of his seat and was standing, his gaze trained on the royal.

"Please excuse me, your highness, but if I could possibly beg a moment of your time? I thought I would ask you what you thought of doing with the candles on the cake..."

Akihiko rose, albeit cautiously, when he gave Misaki a better appraisal.

He was perceptive enough to guess that this wasn't simply about Takahiro's birthday cake, and, despite his heavy heart, he found the strength to go off into the next room with Misaki. It wasn't as if anything the boy could do would worsen his condition, and even through the pain, his penchant for curiosity had not quite been suppressed. What was it that Misaki could have to say to him?

Akihiko had never spent any time with the teen on his own, nor wanted to, so he had no idea of what personality resided within Misaki.

 

* * *

 

The kitchen door he slid shut when they were both inside, and, once that barrier existed, the youth leaned back against it, sighing deeply.

He put one hand up to his eye and wiped at it. That was the first time that Akihiko even noticed the mood that Misaki seemed to be in. Now that he was sequestered from his brother and sister, the teen's eyes were rimmed with the beginnings of tears.

"Usami-sama, are you okay?" he sniffled out, perplexing the prince. Who asks that question when they themselves are visibly upset?

"Misaki," he started to reply, but with his slow way of framing his words, he was beat to the punch.

"I'm sorry... about my brother, Usami-sama. It must hurt badly."

"What is it that is supposed to hurt badly?" Akihiko inquired, his eyes scanning over the boy. He moved a step closer, taking the action almost warily, sensing the teen's fragility.

"Your heart," Misaki answered, into the sleeve he was using to futilely dry his trail of tears. "You love nii-chan, don't you? He's being so mean. I guess that he doesn't know, maybe, but that's no excuse, because you are still sad because of it! And that isn't okay."

It was this declaration that prompted Akihiko to notice something about Misaki. The boy had a good heart in him - his candor was also refreshing.

Never before in his life had Akihiko gleaned such a sympathetic response, no matter the issue. Haruhiko was fortunate to have found him. Indeed, if he was feeling up to giving his brother thought, he would think that his brother did not deserve such a treasure. All in all, he was floored by what he was witnessing. His heavy heart heaved quizzically, as if inquiring to its owner if it were alright to beat once again.

Through his misty eyes, some of the fog lifted, though, with no insult meant to the boy, not enough to truly revitalize him. Perhaps it was too soon a foray at healing.

"Misaki, if I may ask, how did you come to this conclusion?" Akihiko kept his voice light, not wanting to ruffle the sensitive youth in any way.

"Hmm?"

The brunette was sniffling some more, and seemed preoccupied with keeping his face hidden in a sleeve. His cheeks were a bit flushed now, as if he were somehow embarrassed by his outburst, and it was less easy for him to meet the prince's wondering gaze, but he did find it in him to do so. Green shyly greeted violet, and Akihiko quietly repeated his question, the words solid in the vast emptiness of the room.

Misaki shifted on his feet anxiously.

"I guess it's a look I've never really _seen_ before, but I felt like I knew what was running through your head, Usami-sama. W-When I was first... going out... with Haruhiko-san, there was a time that a friend of his came over to the house a lot, and I misunderstood. I thought that Isaka-sama was in love with Haruhiko-san, because he would tease him a lot, but that ended up not being true.

"Though, when I thought it was, it hurt a lot to think of it being true, and I don't know. You looked like I felt back then, Usami-sama, so I figured you might be in a similar situation, where you loved someone that you thought you had lost. You and I have never really met before, nor have you met nee-san, so it had to be nii-chan on your mind. And I know that you two have been friends for a long time so when I thought it about it, it didn't seem so weird that you might like him... in that way. And if you liked him, and he was going to be married to someone else, well that would obviously make you sad, wouldn't it?

"There isn't much that you can do about that, but nii-chan has been acting unkind. I apologize because he really doesn't mean to, but he's just... anyway... I know that nii-chan probably doesn't know that you like him, but it still doesn't feel right that you have to go through this, I guess. Because if you love nii-chan then there are going to be painful feelings since it's not returned. Right?"

Misaki blinked at the end of his long-winded answer, as if nonplussed that the rant had originated from his very own mind. Akihiko fell silent, contemplative.

Such simple picking through of a situation, from a simple mind. The mind of a boy who had admitted that he barely knew Akihiko; it was just short of extraordinary, and yet, to have these things laid out, and realized by another human being was in of itself, soothing.

He thought he should perhaps say something to further reassure the boy about the state of things between his half-sibling and the childhood friend, but something stopped Akihiko from going that extra mile. It was not his place, and the youth seemed to have settled that for himself.

"Just for a moment, can I?" Akihiko sidled up close, staring slightly down to look the youth in the eye. He grasped one of Misaki's shoulders loosely. For an inexplicable reason, he sighed, and it wasn't a noise of discontent. Misaki was looking up at him, and his cheeks were burning red, but his eyes were, the prince felt, seeing every vestige of his soul, even through the brunette's own nerves.

"A hug?" Misaki guessed quietly.

"Yes," Akihiko confirmed.

"Of course."

Misaki's frame relaxed, and he was actually the first to move, wrapping both arms snugly around the prince's torso and drawing him in, encouraging the older to rest his head on one of Misaki's soft shoulders. "It's okay, your highness. If you want to cry, also, that is fine. Crying helps a lot sometimes, because it gets out all the poison inside you."

Akihiko barked out a little laugh, the sound somewhat muffled by where he had stuffed his nose into the crook between shoulder and neck.

"My mom told me that when I was little, anyway."

Akihiko patted the boy's mid-back in a small restitution for his answer, and then inhaled from his perch. Misaki smelled of gentle scents, clean linen, soap, maybe undertones of vanilla - he wasn't entirely sure at this junction. All he knew was the comfort of breathing them in. It had been since never that he had someone to hold him in a time of despair. His life had had many stresses, he felt, but little relief. So, contrary to his usual aloof nature, he was determined to take this boon for what it was.

He allowed himself to be embraced, and he returned the gesture, feeling a momentary draught of calm settle over him. Would that it could last him after he left this place, but Akihiko knew it would probably take a little bit more to let go of these thorn-like strains of sadness.

Misaki felt so small in his arms, but his whole being was put into the task of cheering the prince up, so that was all that truly mattered. Akihiko had to admit that feeling a solid body warmth against his was something of a relief, something new for him that he wasn't used to, apart from the times now and then that he had indulged his unassuaged urges - but then, those were nothing like this. This was peace.

Peace for the tiniest of moments, as it happened.

Before too long, the door slid open, and they found themselves with an audience to the hug.

"Usagi? Misaki?" Takahiro gave them a once-over, and Akihiko groaned inwardly. He realized quickly what it had the possibility of looking like to an outsider, so he quickly procured an excuse from the recesses of his brain.

"I apologize that we are taking so long, old friend. Misaki got carried away with the candles, and he very nearly tripped. It was lucky that I was able to catch both him and them. We'll be out shortly, so please make yourself comfortable."

"Oh!" Takahiro smiled unknowingly, "I'm glad then. Though, Misaki, you need to be more careful running around. You wouldn't want to break something before your wedding, after all! I'll go and wait with Manami-chan. Please, no singing Happy Birthday when you come out, however! I'd be too embarrassed!"

"I wouldn't dream of singing," Akihiko mused aloud levelly, his own form of response.

 

* * *

 

Akihiko dragged himself back onto palace grounds, thanking the gods that his overbearing father had at least not decreed that he be made to be escorted everywhere he wandered during a day. There was no one that he wanted to see him in this state, not a solitary soul. His only desire was to fall into bed and sleep for about a week. Maybe when he awoke, this all would have been a phantom, a dream that he could swat away and then continue on with life. One could not say the prince had a dull imagination, after all, with the many stories he had crafted ever since childhood.

Back there, Misaki's gesture had lightened his heart for a period. He had been able to survive the rest of the evening, and even the first part of his travel home before falling back into his sadness. Akihiko still could not believe the sympathy. And after what he had acted like earlier today, few people would have found it in their graces to show him that kind face. Perhaps there was more to the boy than first appearances.

He set aside the notion for now. As the boy had said himself, albeit in different terms, melancholy was a form of poison, and it needed to be purged from the system. That would be his goal for the present, if it were possible at all, to come to a peace about Takahiro.

Akihiko rounded the corner, nearing his destination. He happened to look up from where he had been inspecting the marbled floors, and subsequently spotted a familiar face.

"Old man," he greeted hoarsely, putting up one hand in a salute. As Hiroki drew closer in the hallway, his eyes narrowed, appraising the prince's outward condition. Needless to say, Akihiko had nowhere to hide from the fact that the night hadn't gone as well as he might have hoped it would.

"What's going on with you? You look a complete train wreck, your highness."

"I just came back from Takahiro's place..." Akihiko offered solemnly.

"And?" Hiroki barely dared to ask, feeling mingled strains of both guilt, and of yearning.

"Engaged."

"I thought it was the kid brother? ...To your brother, oddly enough."

"Oh, well, him also. They were... on the same day, engaged, Takahiro and he. They thought it a happy coincidence."

Hiroki looked his oldest friend over for a long moment before responding. With the way that Akihiko delivered the line, or even just through knowing the entire circumstances, as he was privileged, at times Hiroki thought condemned, to, he could sense the deep rift. "I can see how they would. So. What are you planning to do, then?"

Akihiko laughed bitterly, his eyes raising to the ceiling and then straight back down, never meeting the other man's. "Wallow. The usual, old man, the usual. What other options am I afforded, anyhow?"

Hiroki's feelings were bubbling up beneath the surface steadily now, and his stomach lurched with the knowledge that he was entertaining the thought to share them. To truly share them. Ideas were formulating, buzzing through the brain like so many little impulses upon the neural highway, being weighed and modulated. Akihiko was in a pitiful state, but then, wasn't that really his best chance to find a way in?

Or was that a selfish plan, crafted by a egotistical lover? Hiroki needed more time to process.

He straightened his posture, walking the last few feet to the door of Akihiko's apartments and opening them wide.

"Come on, Akihiko, at the very least, wallow somewhere where it is comfortable to collapse."

He felt as if he were instructing a child, but then, there were many occasions when the prince showed qualities of one, for better or for worse. That was just one of the many facets of the man that Hiroki felt drawn to.

If only his feelings could reach him, then the better they both would be.

**.**

**.**

**END CHAPTER.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] foster brothers - Often in a feudal society, children of noble lineage would be sent to the home of another noble to be raised with their offspring. This was seen as a way to build good relationships between the two landowners participating. The noble who took in the child would raise them and teach them what they would need to know: the lord might instruct them in ruling or combat, if it were a girl, the lady of the manor would teach her womanly disciplines like needlework and managing a household. Akihiko was sent off to Hiroki's father and raised alongside the boy.
> 
> Minor edits completed: 07/15/2015.


	3. Nostalgia No Baai I

_-10 Years Ago_ -

-January 11, 2002-

The young teen's eyes flickered over the grounds of the capitol's educational building, searching for a familiar face. He looked curiously at the students milling around the courtyard, some of them younger than he, some older. Ritsu could even spot the crown prince at his exercise lesson, the silvery hair easy to pick out amongst a crowd. He was accompanied, as always, by his foster brother, who was perched around the side of the ring, sitting on the edge with a book in hand. He didn't seem to be paying much attention to the written word, however, more focused on the spectacle at hand, of the prince at his fencing appointment.

He, and a multitude of young noblewomen, that was.

Ritsu blinked and looked elsewhere. The great thing about his classroom was that it was on a top floor in the central wing, giving him a near full view of this half of the school. Being that the youth got to class rather early, he had wiled away many hours' worth of watching out this particular window. He'd had the same tutor for as far back as he could remember going to school. And, he nervously added in his mind, the same lesson partner.

He fidgeted a little and then went back to watching.

Ritsu alighted on two more class groups: the eleven or ten year olds, who were in playful gaggles under the eyes of their teacher, having recess, and the sixteen year olds, the class above his. Those older students seemed to be having a free period, and they were separated into two clumps. Given that there were only three of them, this left one boy off on his own.

The singleton was a tall youth with dark brown hair and glasses, who was sitting in the grass studying some sort of book. It looked too big to be a novel so perhaps it was a textbook. The other two sixteens, coincidentally also brunettes, were sitting together in a patch of shade. One was leaning against the wall, looking as if he were napping, but his lips moved. He must have been talking to the other boy that was beside him, the one with a sketchbook perched on his knees, drawing something avidly.

Verdant irises shifted back over, as if to head to the other side of the entrance area, but paused on the main walkway to see who had just shuffled in past the gates. His eyes widened, and Ritsu straightened up accordingly at recognizing the person.

"Onodera-sama, why have you been staring out that window for so long? Come inside boy, and get your books out! When Takano-sama gets here, we'll start the lesson."

Ritsu turned away from the glass, cheeks pinkening ever so slightly at the attention being paid to him.

"Oh - um, yes Sensei! I'm coming! I was just... Senpai is walking this way now, so that was why I was looking outside. I didn't expect to see him is all. He's usually on time, so I thought maybe he wasn't going to show up." The teen hoped that his response didn't give anything away

His teacher gave him the once-over, smiling almost imperceptibly.

The professor was well aware of his pupil's inclinations, and he thought it a harmless little affection. Both boys were of noble birth, so there were no barriers there, and though Onodera could hardly work up the nerve to speak to his lesson-mate outside of when necessary for a project, he thought the boys were well-suited in temperament.

Takano tended to keep to himself, projecting a loner air with traces of melancholy, but had a good heart stowed beneath his many layers. Onodera, on the other hand, could hardly keep his feelings in check, tending to rely on his gut instinct when pressured. He was by no means a social butterfly, yet he was a kind and approachable person.

"It's good that Takano-sama will come to class, but that is no excuse to slack off in the intervening time," he reminded the younger, wagging an authoritative finger. Ritsu nodded, moving over to his desk and placing his school bag on top to get out his supplies.

"Algebra, Sensei?"

"Mmm," the professor confirmed.

Ritsu sighed unhappily. He was so much better at anything else, barring math. In fact, he was truly a grade-A student, but in Math he did deplorably, earning B's, and one time, even a C. The boy shivered. His parents hadn't been too pleased at that time, and he never wanted to be in that situation again.

He slid his hefty textbook out of the bag, looking down at it as if it had done something to offend him.

Next he took out some paper and pencils, glancing surreptitiously up at Sensei's desk, where the man was engaged with reading through books of his own. Figuring that he could stand a few minutes to ease into school for the day, Ritsu began to doodle in the corner of his paper. First they were random lines, but then they quickly took shape into small drawings. A sun. A dog. A star. The small scratches allowed him to relax to the point where he was creating them without thinking.

Ritsu wasn't an artistic person, but he preferred it to math. His true passion was reading, but as of the past year, his parents had ordered the household staff to check his bag before he went to lessons for novels, so that he would have less to be distracted by while in school. Idle pastimes like this were all he had when he didn't feel up to starting an assignment.

He continued in this way for another ten minutes, sometimes eying the textbook, trying to work up some drive, but none grew. Finally, his reverie was broken when the door to the classroom swung open, and his fellow student strode in at a brisk pace, his somber-featured face impassive. Ritsu couldn't take his eyes away now, the drawings forgotten.

Masamune walked up to their tutor's desk. Ritsu picked up his textbook, eyes peering over top of it.

"Sensei, my apologies. My parents kept me for a while. My uncle required us all to sign off on his will, and that is why I am late today."

"It's no trouble, Takano-sama, so long as you work hard in lessons. We'll be covering math mostly today."

Takano inclined his head in acceptance before turning on his heel, bag in hand. Ritsu quickly dived behind his textbook, training his eyes to the first passage they landed on. It was rude to stare, and he didn't want Takano-senpai to think badly of him, so instead he raptly studied the quadratic formula and hoped that he had not been noticed in his visual eavesdropping.

Ritsu had his shoulders locked tensely, and he nearly jumped when he heard Takano slide unceremoniously into the seat beside his, book-bag 'thumping' resoundingly against the wood surface. He burrowed his face a little deeper, to where he obviously couldn't even read the words on the pages. All he really wanted was to hide himself for a bit until they had settled in, and everything was routine once more.

They were coming back from a break, and it was the first time he had seen his classmate in a while. The dark-haired teen had seemingly grown taller, a bit more broad-shouldered under his uniform. Ritsu had certainly appreciated the sight from his vantage point. It was hard to look Takano dead on, like he sometimes had to during class, but the stolen glances were much easily taken, admiring the older from a distance.

Takano huffed a little once he had retrieved his books, and then he actually spoke, picking an even tone and quite clearly directing his comments toward the other boy.

"It's no big deal. My parents treat my uncle as if he'll die tomorrow. They certainly hope so, but the doctors have said he may live years past now. He's healthy enough that I don't worry for him. It's not time to worry yet."

Ritsu peered out from his algebra curiously. Why had he told him that?

"Uh," he began anxiously, "are you sure you're okay, Senpai?"

Golden brown eyes trained on his. "Yeah, I'm fine. That's what I was telling you, just now."

"But..." Ritsu stared at his desk out of distraction, "You said that your parents... hope that your uncle passes on. That doesn't seem very nice, I guess. Why would they think something like that? Isn't that your father's brother?"

"Don't worry about my parents. They're the defective ones; ambitious to a fault. Perhaps that's the way to say it. My dad can't bear that he wasn't born first. It's probably been that way his whole life. In the end it doesn't affect me, or my uncle. Uncle will live as long as he is supposed to live, and they'll just have to grin and take it. You shouldn't be sad because of it. It's nothing, really."

"...I know Senpai would know best."

Ritsu went for his math notebook resolvedly, opening it to the last homework page they had left off on. He was more than a little confused by his classmate's comments, but given his lack of anything to say, he decided to leave it be. Next to him, Takano did the same. He was a quite a deal better at this subject, and often helped the younger with it, but in restitution, Ritsu would coach him on history. Takano wasn't necessarily a bad student of it, he simply didn't find it interesting enough to learn. That was what Ritsu helped with. He would try his best to explain why this event or that event really was important, or come up with some fun facts to make the lesson more enticing for the older boy.

Secretly, he wished they covered the subject on a more frequent basis.

During the times that he spent teaching Masamune, that was when he felt closest to him. The other would look upon Ritsu with rapt attention, a certain spark in those handsome eyes that made the young teen's stomach do somersaults. Before they started, he would be nervous, so much so that he always believed he wouldn't be able to teach him anything, but every time that notion was disproved. Once he got talking, Masamune's own calm rubbed off on Ritsu so that he was able to speak feeling no pressure. He even got excited, because in his way, the older boy seemed to honestly appreciate the stories he would regale him with.

In any event, he did improve at history afterward, so it was a positive outcome no matter how one looked at it.

Ritsu stared down at the fate that awaited him in the land of numbers today, reading through each individual question with a numb mind. No sense in freaking out until he had seen all of the problems. Once he cleared the page, he turned them all over, ruminating on which would be the most palatable to begin with. He chose to begin with one of the quadratics, seeing as how he had inadvertently scanned the passage only minutes earlier.

He pulled up a clean piece of notebook paper and wrote out the formula at the top. From there Ritsu looked at the equation given, and, discerning which numbers correlated to "a," "b," and "c" in the problem, he filled them into the formula. Ritsu actually thought it was going okay until he had solved the portion under the square root symbol, and then was when he ran into trouble. He could not for the life of him figure out what was the correct way to go on from there. There was a negative under the square root, and was that even possible to do? His eyes narrowed in frustration as he tried to puzzle it out.

Could he divide what was under the root by the "2*a" factor on the bottom of the big division line?

In short, Ritsu was discombobulated, and it was driving him to anxiety quickly and surely. Why did he even have to learn these things? When was he going to have to know how to do this to do his job? He wanted to work with books, not with numbers, and his family already had an accountant employed to handle their personal and land finances. It made no sense to him that he had to study such a mystifying and impractical portion of math.

He lay his pencil down, staring at the work he had put in disconsolately as if a suggestion might spring forward if he looked pitiable enough.

"Hey, are you still having trouble with simplifying? I know you were, before we had holiday. Or did you figure it out?"

Ritsu willed himself to stare at his classmate in the face, and he said, "I..." And then abruptly cut the statement off there. He had meant to refute the notion, to tell the other boy that he had been able to figure it out. He did have some pride to maintain anyway, and what would it look like if he had wasted all the time on break and still hadn't figured this out? He probably would look lazy, or even stupid for his inability.

"Is that a yes or a no?" Masamune inquired, not unkindly.

"Um... I..."

"I'm sure you gave it a good try, but if you don't understand it still, then I don't mind helping you."

Ritsu ducked down, his chin dipping toward his neck.

"Hey, chin up. No need to be shy about it."

He slowly obeyed, feeling rather like a bobble-head.

"How about if I help you with this, you can help me with the civil war lesson we're going to be having later on?"

Ritsu considered this, a little embarrassed that Takano had to stoop to bargain with him like this to get him to admit to anything, but in the end, he decided it was enough. He nodded. "Okay. I will help you with that, Takano-senpai, if you help me with my algebra."

Takano scooted over at their table, reaching across Ritsu to grab the paper he had been writing out his steps on. Ritsu immediately sat back in his chair, warmth blooming at the near brush. He waited as Masamune looked over what he had tried to do, viridian eyes flicking here and there in an attempt not to outright stare, because he didn't want to be noticed for it.

"First, you made a little mistake here," Masamune tapped his pencil at what was written under the square root. "You forgot to square 'b,' and that's why it ended up negative. Try looking at it again and redoing that part. I'll wait."

Keeping his gaze planted firmly on his sheet, he erased what he had done and started again, this time carefully eying the numbers to make sure he wasn't leaving something out. When he had reworked everything, to his relief, the number under the square was a positive, although, he knew it wouldn't come out as a whole number once you took the square root of it.

"Good, that looks right. So, what would you do next if you had to do this on your own?"

"Divide by what's on the bottom?" Ritsu guessed quietly. He wasn't really what one would call confident in the answer; in fact he was sure it was wrong, but he didn't know what the right way _was_.

Takano leaned in even further, again using his pencil to point out what he was trying to highlight. Ritsu could do nothing but nervously listen. Or, attempt to listen.

"When there's an addition or subtraction sign on this side, you can't divide it by the factor on the other side. It only works if the numbers are multiplied on this side, too."

Ritsu was shaking like a leaf with Takano-senpai so closely invading his personal space that algebraic laws seemed a fleeting concern. His whole face felt hot, and though he trembled, he felt that if he moved at all, they would end up _touching_. The idea was simultaneously terrifying and thrilling.

He was startled even further when there was a sudden stream of raps coming from the classroom door. Both boys looked over at the disturbance, and then Sensei got up to go see who was there. He only half-opened the portal, so neither were able to peer around and see.

"Excuse me for a moment, boys," Sensei called before stepping out with the person, leaving them alone in the room.

Their eyes turned back to the math problem at hand, but the atmosphere had definitively shifted. If he had been nervous before, Ritsu was at least twice as much now. He wasn't sure what he was expecting, only that the idea of having the room all to themselves made his neurons fire faster than ever before.

Perhaps he had been right to feel in that vein, as there was a slight development only moments after their teacher had vacated the space. As they were working, Masamune's hand landed on top of his own, palm sliding smoothly over the back to link their fingers.

Ritsu turned his head at the gesture, wide-eyed with surprise from the sudden, intimate move. "Senpai?" he asked, barely daring to, but he made himself ask anyway because it was so unprecedented.

"Why are you...?" he added in, his hand trembling as it was held securely on top of the table. Masamune gave it a solid squeeze, showing he had no designs on letting go real soon.

"I like you."

Those three words, so simple, so overwhelmingly conquered the younger boy's heart. A coral blush arose, and he tried to pull back, but to no avail.

Masamune's luminous eyes surveyed him with an intensity that he could hardly bear to look upon, and thus Ritsu kept his gaze pointed down. He felt his pulse pounding a loud refrain and he still almost believed this was some kind of fantasy, that he had fallen asleep in class perhaps, and was dreaming of what he wished could happen, but wouldn't, in the waking world. Did Senpai really just confess to him? He... he...

"Onodera, look at me."

"S-Senpai..." Ritsu clenched his eyes tightly shut, other hand balling up into a little fist nestled on his thigh. He could feel the words building in his very throat, on a collision course to the outside world with or without his consent. Ritsu felt as if he might lose all control after saying them, but nothing about that changed the fact that he was about to admit that, "I... I love you."

There was then a big squeeze, and an even more insistent request, "Onodera, look me in the eye. Chin up."

Heaving a shaky breath, this time Ritsu complied, lifting his face upward to catch the older boy's stare, and with a jolt of unexplained emotion, he noticed that Masamune was smiling.

It looked a bit awkward on the other's face, lips turned up almost stiffly at the corners, smallest of gaps between those parted roses, all of this due to under-use. Ritsu had never seen Masamune with much in the way of tangible expressions written on his countenance, and certainly never a smile.

In his dreams, he had hoped that he could do something, one day, to make his classmate crush grin, and now that it had happened, he felt himself falling a bit more all over again. Was it silly to find that ungainly smile attractive? His heart felt all a flutter over it, and Ritsu wondered why it was that Masamune could do something so small and he couldn't help but like him for it.

He shyly offered a little one of his own, his eyes dipping back down toward the desk out of anxious habit. Also because Ritsu just felt like he needed a respite from the way Masamune's eyes seemed to sparkle looking at him, even through the long dark fringe of hair the older boy tended to wear in front of them on any normal day. His cheeks were probably more red than pink at this point, and he couldn't imagine it looked very appealing, so he wanted to hide his face as best as was possible, so close to the one he adored.

 

* * *

The door clattered open, and both Sensei and another man stepped into the room. The latter Ritsu recognized as one of his mother's butlers, and he watched to see what would be said, because clearly it was something to do with him.

The man in question strode in gracefully, eyes alighting on Ritsu at his table and voicing the orders.

"Young master Onodera, your mother and father are requesting your presence elsewhere. Takano-sama, I have been sent by your parents for you, as well. If you will both follow me?" The butler extended an arm out the doorway, pointing in the direction their travel.

The youths glanced at their tutor, who nodded his assent to the dismissal. Once permitted, they carefully gathered up their belongings and stood.

Ritsu wondered curiously what was afoot that both of them would be called. He couldn't fathom why. It wasn't as if they had done anything to be in trouble over, had they? Well, they had just done _that_ , but it had only just happened so there was no way his mother could know about it... could she? Were their parents unhappy about how they had been doing in lessons? Ritsu didn't think there was reason for that to be the case.

"I don't know why, either."

The brunette looked up at his Senpai, who had been the one to speak.

"Um, was I thinking out loud, or...?" he inquired nervously.

"No, I could tell you were trying to guess though," Takano offered as response. "If I knew, I would say, so since I don't know, I decided to say that as well."

"Okay," he murmured.

"Whatever it is though, it will be fine. Don't worry about it."

"Okay," Ritsu repeated himself.

Seeming satisfied with that answer, Masamune joined his silence, and they walked through the school building after the staff member. In the end they winded up going down two floors to where a multitude of conference rooms were positioned, and were ushered into one of the smaller ones.

Inside, there was a long table. At the head of the table was a formally dressed man with a sheath of papers laid out on the surface. He was looking up at them pleasantly enough, though with a vague air to him. Masamune's eyes flickered in recognition; it was the same family lawyer that his parents employed, and who had been accompanying them earlier when they visited his uncle Masayuki to go over the man's will and testament. He glanced around the room once more, and, taking in the players and the circumstances, he felt he had a good idea of what was about to get put forward. He wondered if Ritsu did.

Ritsu walked over close to his parents, who were motioning to him, and he came to a stop in front of his mother, who was looking upon him quite seriously. She always did that when she was about to make a rule for him, and he had grown wary of seeing that expression on her face. He shifted his gaze briefly onto his father, who was not looking at him at all, and the boy gulped anxiously.

What was going on?

"Ritsu, we have conferred with Masamune's parents, and we have all come to the agreement that when you come of age in a few years, that you and he should be married. Today, however, is when we will be making your engagement."

The youth's eyes widened at the startling declaration. He honestly could not believe those words had come from his mother's mouth, as neither she nor father had seemed to show any predilection toward his Senpai at all in the past. Had their parents been planning this behind their backs? Had it been for a long time, or a short time? Despite his love of the other boy, he was still caught off guard, and wasn't really sure how he should react.

"Mama," he began to say, but she cut him off.

"This is for the best, Ritsu. He is from a good family and you two get along, right? I do not see any reason you should have to complain."

"But," Ritsu attempted once more, but seeing the look on his mother's face, he fell silent and went to sit in the chair indicated to him between his two parents. On the other side of the long table, Masamune sat with his mother and father, unreadable as ever.

The proceedings themselves may have been quick, but Ritsu got the feeling that whatever happened afterward, this was a memory he would never forget.

"Takano-sama, as you are of an age where you may give your signature, do you knowingly, and in full understanding of the terms, agree to be betrothed to Onodera-sama, to marry him when he ascends his eighteenth birthday? This contract is legally binding, and cannot be casually revoked. You will not be able to become engaged to anyone else while it stands, even if between you and he, you agree not to honor it. All due process must first be observed until it can be broken."

Masamune glanced at Ritsu, who dropped his eyes to the floor immediately, squirming in the uncomfortable chair they had placed him in.

"I agree to those terms," he confirmed, his voice deep, the intonations ringing in the younger's ear.

Ritsu felt his heart jump a little.

It may be that Senpai was only being dutiful to his parents' wishes, but maybe, just maybe, he was agreeing because he _wanted_ to. They had said those things earlier today, but marriage - marriage was a whole other ball game in comparison. Yet, he himself, even through the haze of shock, wanted it, so perhaps it was possible for the other boy to feel the same way. Ritsu didn't think it very likely _at all_ , but his heart refused to crush the train of hope, letting it continue to ingrain itself in his consciousness like a fledgling flower taking root, holding out for the bloom of spring.

"Then please repeat the words after I speak them. 'I promise to wed this man, to love him, to honor and protect him, from here until my last day. I willingly pledge my hand, and I take his in return.'"

"I promise to wed this man, to love him, to honor and protect him, from here until my last day. I willingly pledge my hand, and I take his in return."

The younger chanced a look upward, only to find golden eyes boring into his as Masamune spoke the vow. Ritsu flushed all the way up to his ears, and let out a quiet squeak of repressed emotion. He was entirely aware of how spastic he was acting, but he still was truly in shock at the proceedings. Not that he didn't want this, but, that it was happening at all was... like some sort of wild dream come true!

"Onodera-sama, as your son is not of an age to give his signature, as his parent and guardian, do you agree to these same terms for him?"

"We both do agree, and give our full consent," Ritsu's father responded, nodding to the attorney.

And with a few simple words, their fate was sealed.

 

* * *

When they began lessons the next day, Ritsu was more jumpy than ever. Many known and unknown emotions were buzzing around his mind and body, and he wasn't quite sure how to contain them to go about life as a normal person. Was he even supposed to be able to? Most people would be excited if they had gotten engaged to that special someone, right? He knew part of what he felt was excitement.

After the ceremony, when he had gone to bed in the evening, he had had one of those dreams about Senpai, the strange ones where he felt warmer, all over his body, and woke in the morning needing a thorough shower to cleanse himself. To think that in just a few years, they would be doing things like in his dream, and they were supposed to do them titillated the poor lovestruck teen even further than he had ever felt before.

Ritsu had worried that when he was an adult, his parents would have tried to set him up with someone whom he didn't like, a stranger, maybe. With his mother being how she was, and his father how he was, he had always known he would wind up in an arranged marriage; the question had always been - with whom? If he had the courage, he could have repudiated the marriage; appealed to the king perhaps, but then, Ritsu had never been the rebellious sort, to be honest. He probably would have gone along with whoever was chosen for him.

But instead, somehow, through a major stroke of luck, they had picked for him the one person who he could give himself over to wholly with no qualms whatsoever. The person who made his heart beat fervently when they were in the same room, and whom Ritsu had already been in love with for the past few years, and had liked for years before then, since they were children. To say he felt lucky was a gross understatement.

In the beginning of his fifteenth year, Onodera Ritsu had high hopes for the future.

**.**

**.**

**END CHAPTER.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first chapter for the Nostalgia pairing from Sekai-Ichi Hatsukoi, Onodera and Takano. Be aware that this is a flashback chapter. Like in canon, this portion of their relationship is from a decade ago. Final note - I have axed the canon notion of Takano's parents divorcing while he was high-school aged. So instead, he will always be Takano, and Ritsu will always be known to him as Onodera. As cute as it was, no Oda. Hope no one minds that factor too much! I have a storyline worked out, and those things wouldn't fit with how I have it structured.
> 
> Ages - Takano (newly 16), Ritsu (around two months from age 15). Important to note that in the realm of this story, 18 is the age of majority overall, but 16 and older can sign legal documents with guardian supervision, procure their own medical care without parent consent, etcetera.


	4. You and I

When Misaki arrived home, it was with a note of confusion that had taken hold in his brain ever since meeting the prince in a more personal setting. He wasn't sure what to make of the man, who had shown him two very different faces of himself, each neutralizing the other. There was the first, wherein he had seemed loathsome, and the latter, where Akihiko had seemed human, and hurt.

He headed first to the bedroom Haruhiko had given him when he had started working for the man several years ago, hung up his coat in the closet, and then changed into more casual attire. It felt a big relief to be back in clothes that he was used to. Misaki had worn a suit to court because it was required to dress formally, and he had felt very uncomfortable in it to be honest. He liked it much better when he could wear cargo shorts, or jeans, or pajama pants and no one gave him grief about it.

He changed into his nightwear, as it was approaching bedtime, and sat on his bed for a moment, breathing a sigh of relief. Misaki hoped that everything would be calm now, and that life could continue on as normal. Sure, there was a wedding to plan, and now nii-chan's too, it seemed, but perhaps mostly normal could be a feasible goal. No more trips into the claws of the noble court.

After giving himself a few minutes to relax, Misaki stood and left his room, heading across the large house to his fiancé's bedroom to see if he had gone to sleep yet. Even though Misaki had his own bedroom for when he felt like he wanted a place to be alone, the truth was that ever since he had started a relationship with Haruhiko, they had shared the lord's sleeping quarters more often than not.

It wasn't that they always did _those things_ , but when you cared about someone, it was nice to have them close by when you could.

As he walked, his thoughts were yet again captured by the prince, of the pain he had masked beneath a smile, and the way he had held him loosely when they hugged, as if it weren't something he were used to. If Misaki was considering it to be the truth, he thought that was really sad. Sure, it might be different if you were a royal rather than a commoner, but everyone should have someone they can go to in the bad times of their lives.

Even during the few seconds when Akihiko had cried on his shoulder, the gesture had been so reluctantly begun, as if he did not trust Misaki with it. As if there was something wrong with him having cause to tear up. He seemed to prefer holding it in than letting it show. Given how Misaki had been raised, this didn't seem healthy. He knew that when he tried to keep his emotions in, that only made it worse later down the road. It should be fine to act sad if you are sad, or to cry if you feel like crying; that was where his opinion stood. Other people can't tell you what you should or shouldn't do when it comes to your own feelings.

Misaki wondered just how it was that Akihiko came to fall in love with his brother, and why he had kept in his thoughts all these years. Nii-chan obviously liked girls, but, to hold onto a fruitless love, to hold it inside... that too seemed like something painful, perhaps even more painful than letting your feelings air out in the open. The prince seemed to have gone the hardest route about his unrequited affections, and so perhaps it wasn't surprising, if sad, that it had backfired on him in the end.

Misaki hoped that one day Akihiko would be able to move on, and find someone to love who would return those feelings. He thought there had to be a person out there for everyone who was right for them; with any luck the prince would be able to find his special someone.

He approached the bedroom door at last, noting its open state. In the house, an open door typically meant vacancy, a closed one meant someone was in whichever room. Still, Misaki did peek his head in to double-check, and sure enough, the man was not in bed. The youth looked at the time from the wall clock and given the evening hour, if Haruhiko was not in bed, he was likely still working.

Thus, the next logical place to check was Haruhiko's study, and Misaki departed from the bedroom to go there and see.

It was an unspoken tradition of the past year and a half or so that whenever either of them came home, they would seek out the other to at least say that they had made it back safely from work. Or, in Misaki's case, typically a friend's house or the stores. He tended to go outside of the capitol to see some of his school friends during the weekdays if they weren't working, and sometimes at night because of that time conflict.

It wasn't really that Misaki disliked the capitol area, but he did feel a bit out of place there. Only nobility or those who worked in the homes of nobles or the businesses within the capitol enclosure were allowed in. Despite the fact that he was now engaged to a very important man, this place wasn't where Misaki had grown up, and even after three years of working there, and two of living there full-time, it still felt very alien; like he wasn't meant to walk the streets.

The capitol's snug surrounding walls were a bit imposing to him, and he preferred the neighborhoods of his childhood, or the countryside if he went there. Many lords and ladies' estates were in the country a ways, where they owned the surrounding lands. The capitol was only a few hundred years old, built during the time of a king who had ordered that his noble subjects move in closer to him so that he might keep better tabs on them all. Currently, only some of those in the nobility actually inhabited the capitol; others choosing to live out farther.

Typically their sons and daughters lived there, however, to attend the large school or the university, both located in the interior. Those who did reside within the walls either had apartments in the palace itself, or houses in the district. The latter was what Haruhiko had chosen when he had come of age. He had been gifted with tract of land by his father at eighteen, and had in fact designed the whole house himself, having a keen interest in architecture.

It was one of the few early opportunities the man had had to exercise that interest, as the king had wanted him to go into business instead.

Misaki finally arrived at the study door, finding it open merely a sliver. He knocked once before pushing it open, calling quietly, "I'm back, Haruhiko-san."

"Welcome home, Misaki."

Misaki made his way further into the room and plopped down on the sofa nearest the desk, tucking his legs under him as he settled in.

He leaned back against the cushion and brought up a pillow to hug to his upper half, slightly obscuring his mouth as he watched the older male work. Haruhiko was answering certain correspondences for a contract his company was trying to acquire. His eyes were strained looking behind the lenses, indicating how hard the man had been trying at closing the deal.

Even despite his noble status, he had to work just as any other businessman would to get ahead. In some ways Misaki thought that was fair, but in others he did worry if the career was overtaxing at times. The way that Haruhiko's personality was, he wasn't content to leave a lot of his work to subordinates. He preferred to do it himself, to assure that it was to the standard that he liked. A bit of a workaholic, his fiancé was. Frankly just watching him some nights was exhausting.

Though, if Misaki thought about it, he did spend a lot of the day cooking or baking, and that was _his_ job, so did that make him a hard worker, too? He had to wonder, because to him what he did was fun, so it wasn't usually a bother to go for hours in the kitchen. Over the years he had subconciously started thinking of the room as his very own domain. His office.

Haruhiko's suit jacket was folded over the back of the chair, and his shirt sleeves were unpinned, lending him a more disheveled look than his normal unruffled state. Misaki looked him over, mildly worried. When it came to work things, that wasn't something he could realistically help with, even though he wanted to, to make it easier on Haruhiko.

"You can talk to me, Misaki, if you want to. I am almost done with this."

"Oh, well you did look busy," Misaki admitted. "I was going to wait."

"Tired," Haruhiko amended for him, sighing. "The dinner that you made though, that gave me the second wind I needed to get this far."

Misaki clutched his pillow shield tighter. "I'm glad you liked it. I wasn't sure if it was a good night to try a new recipe out, but I decided to in the end, so it's good that it worked out."

The clacking of keys was the background for a moment or two, and then, as if snapping back into consciousness, Haruhiko inquired, "How was it over at your brother's house? Did you have a fun time?"

"Oh that's right! Nii-chan and Manami-san are going to get married - they just told us tonight! I thought it was kind of funny how it happened on the same day as you and I, don't you think so too?"

Haruhiko looked over, a slight curve to his lips. "That is quite the coincidence." He scanned over the document he had finished filling out on the screen, and then seemed to remember, "They told 'us'?" he asked curiously.

"Your brother came to dinner to see nii-chan, and to wish him a happy birthday," Misaki provided as an explanation.

"I see. Well, I hope he was playing nice. He didn't say anything untoward to you, did he?"

"No, Usami-sama was very polite, I thought. Actually it was confusing, Haruhiko-san, because when we met him earlier, I thought he was being rude. No, he was... I was mad at that time. I was thinking 'why would he say something like that?' because I live with Haruhiko-san and I know him, and I don't think what I do is 'put up' with him, because Haruhiko-san has never bothered me... So when he came over, I guess I expected Usami-sama to act like he did earlier on but he didn't at all. It confused me. I didn't understand why."

"Akihiko and I don't get along. He hasn't met you before, so there's no reason to antagonize you. That's probably why."

"I know that you don't get along," Misaki said, a pinch of weariness forthcoming in his tone. "Haruhiko-san has told me before, but has never said _why_. Is it," the younger man paused, voice softening considerably, "anything to do with Usami-sama and Haruhiko-san not being full brothers?"

Haruhiko turned his desk chair to face on Misaki properly, face more or less impassive. His hands rested on his thighs, unconsciously smoothing down the wrinkles on his slacks.

"I suppose. It's not an easy thing to quantify. All I know is that Akihiko's mother hated that my father acknowledged me, and growing up with her, I can see how that might have rubbed off on him. Mind you, Misaki, I say this only because I've had about a decade and a half to dwell on it. If you had asked me when I was younger, I might have given you a very different response. Even when you first came to my house, I was still hateful of him."

"We will never come to be friends. There is too much between us, and I doubt very much that Akihiko would want such a bond with me. I confess I am not too bothered with how things stand. We leave each other alone for the most part, and that seems to go well."

"If you say so." Misaki sighed, setting the pillow off to the side on the couch. He stretched his shoulders.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, Haruhiko-san. Don't worry."

Misaki had a hard time envisioning what it might be like to constantly war against your own sibling. Takahiro and he had always gotten along well; his elder brother had been like a parent and a friend to him. Family was supposed to be paramount in a person's life. Why was it that some families could not get along? And on that topic, how could anyone not like Haruhiko-san, just for being born? That seemed awfully mean.

It seemed also to Misaki though, that the brothers both had their own problems. He may not of approved of Akihiko on the matter of Haruhiko, but he didn't dislike the prince. He even felt a little bit of pity; the man had been so lost when nii-chan had announced his engagement. He must have loved Takahiro very much, and Misaki, though a bit confused about the situation, felt that the pain Akihiko had endured was unfair.

Misaki was glad that at least, he did not have those problems in his own life, because seeing others go through them was quite enough.

"Are you ready to go sleep?" he piped up, pushing the matter aside for now. His voice trembled a little; a recollection of earlier today playing through his mind. It finally hit home for Misaki that he was actually engaged. Meaning he would be married, maybe only a few months from now!

"I was going to go through another brief, and then come to bed. You can go on without me; you must be tired."

"Haruhiko-san," Misaki spoke, rising to his feet and adopting a firm tone, "it's late, and you're going to hurt your eyes more than they probably are already. I would have made you stop an hour ago if I had been home. Come get some sleep, and rest them."

He strode up to the man, taking his hand and tugging slightly to emphasize his order.

Haruhiko eyed him speculatively, and soon admitted defeat. He squeezed Misaki's hand and then let it go, dropping his away. "Let me just close these programs out, and we'll go to sleep then." He turned back to his desk, making a few adjustments on the laptop screen in preparation for the end of the night.

Misaki waited patiently and watched Haruhiko carefully return everything to a neutral state until nothing remained but the desktop. Haruhiko then shut the computer, turning off the lamp at its side, and stood up, stretching his shoulders and back. Misaki could see the shadows lining the man's tall, lean body, and a warm blush was stirred in the heavy quiet of the semi-darkened room.

Misaki tentatively stepped forward, not exactly looking his fiancé in the eye when he re-offered his hand to take.

Haruhiko held it for a moment, but made no move to start walking, instead using the connection to pull Misaki closer. Cradling the younger against his chest, he bent to anoint Misaki's forehead with a small kiss. Misaki's heart pumped a stage faster at the way Haruhiko's arms were holding him, hugging them flush together. He was happy, but a little caught off guard by the affection. Though, if he had to say, he liked that element of it.

He would never admit that he had been hoping for something like this to occur tonight.

"Are you tired, Misaki?"

"...Not just yet, Haruhiko-san."

 

* * *

Haruhiko lifted Misaki up under his bottom and supported him the rest of the way to their bed, positioning him delicately on the side of the four-poster. He then retreated backward to pull off some of his clothed layers, a slow volt of steady anticipation his accompaniment. He watched the younger man gingerly remove the long, old tee-shirt he liked best to wear at night, baring a slender chest and abdomen crowned by twin rosy buds that wanted plucking.

Deftly, Haruhiko unbuttoned his long dress shirt and slid it off his broad shoulders, exposing his torso to Misaki, who seemed to be eying it without trying to appear like he was, which Haruhiko found endearing. Some time ago they had had the conversation where Misaki had spoken up because it made him uncomfortable to be the only one who was ever completely nude when they joined, and the lord had been making an effort to see to it that he remedied this problem.

The way Misaki had explained it to him, it was because the senseless distinction had made him feel inadequate in a small way, as if Haruhiko did not care enough to take his time and disrobe, or if Misaki was only a toy, to be stripped and examined before play.

The epiphany these complaints had invoked in Haruhiko had disheartened him, as he had never thought about it in that manner. Once again Misaki proved more emotionally intelligent than he ever thought he would be, despite their gap in years. He had never harbored any such intentions, and so the words stuck with him so that he was very mindful of treating their trysts with equality insofar as that could feasibly happen.

He was Misaki's first lover and they were each other's last. To do anything but treasure him was not something that Haruhiko could do.

They both finished their respective disrobing, sharing a gaze for a stilted minute before coming together. Haruhiko recalled back to the first time they had been fully intimate, and how he had to coax Misaki to open his eyes to see the splay of his nude body. The boy had been ten times shier at that age, but when Misaki had looked, that had made him all the more comfortable, as Haruhiko knew it would. As embarrassing as it might have been for the younger man, to see your lover's body replaces some of the anxiety with excitement, curiosity, attraction. To have Misaki now able to look on him without hesitation stirred Haruhiko. He could feel those verdant eyes roaming subtly, taking in his measure. It only added to the experience for him.

He stepped up to the bed, finding himself near level with the man he loved. Haruhiko's thoughts broke off, and he stilled as he felt small hands moving to him.

Misaki reached for the wiry frames perched over Haruhiko's nose and removed them, replacing the glasses on the nightstand with heedfulness, setting them up right so that the lenses were not in danger of being rattled.

Haruhiko bent down to seek out the youth's lips for a kiss, taking the lower into his mouth from the beginning, suckling it slowly between his own two. Misaki's taste was as sweet and inviting as ever, causing the elder to lose a bit of his control. He pushed on the boy's shoulders until he lay back flat on their mattress, Haruhiko propped over top of him.

The urge to make love to him was growing harder to ignore, their shared arousal mounting as the seconds flickered on by, passing as slow as time ever did, the atmosphere becoming more weighted with each new development.

Haruhiko plunged his tongue into Misaki's mouth, relishing how silky his fiancé's tongue was as they rubbed against each other, mingling with a satisfying wetness that encouraged the mood further.

Almost unconsciously, he slid his hands up the bed until they found their match, twining Misaki's fingers with his own and clutching firm. Haruhiko felt their pulses beating as a pair, and his bleary gray eyes wavered open, watching the soft flutter of lashes as Misaki's eyes squeezed tightly shut opposite him. He sighed on the inside contentedly, already feeling some of the day's stress melting and dissolving into nonexistence.

It concerned Haruhiko that he had to go into court just to obtain permission to marry Misaki, but that was the usual way of things. No matter if he had been marrying another noble, the fact that he was one himself dictated he could not make such a large commitment without the royal seal of approval. In truth he thought it a bit of a sham. What did his half-brother really care about the people who came into to make petitions to him? Akihiko only went along with the designation because their father coerced him to; Haruhiko didn't need to be told to figure that mystery out.

Yes, he knew all too well about having to please their joint parent. So many years of his life had been spent unhappily trying to live up to those standards, so many of his own desires had been suppressed in the pursuit. It was a grind that no one had been able to pull him out of.

That was, until Misaki had appeared in his life. Slowly but surely, the younger man had encouraged Haruhiko, taking care of him within the boundaries of his work as a chef, but over time, as a confidant, someone that Haruhiko could talk to, who would genuinely listen. Months after coming to work for Haruhiko, Misaki had even felt right enough to give the elder advice.

Misaki was the one who had snapped him into sense. With a benevolent innocence, Misaki had told him, then, that 'people should do what makes them happy.'

How those words had changed him.

He moved downward, attaching his mouth to Misaki's light tan torso and nipping at the skin therein. The boy arched up, and Haruhiko continued down, heading toward Misaki's nipples, one of his more sensitive spots. Playing with his Misaki was the best part of their intimacy, and it was more likely for a night to consist of mouths and firm touches than for it to progress 'the whole way.' Knowing that they were connected in mind and soul was enough; feeling Misaki's body pressed against his brought him keener ecstasy than anything else.

His tongue flitted against the fleshy swell, eyes wandering up to watch Misaki as he gasped quietly. His hand teased the other peak, treating the younger to a dual sensation. Haruhiko tasted the sweet skin, worrying it tenderly with his teeth to full stiffness. His heart raced as he worked, hearing those beautiful sounds resonating so close to his ear as he gave his lover pleasure.

After only a few minutes, Misaki was squirming and hands were rubbing along Haruhiko's bicep, indicating he was ready to move things along.

They parted momentarily so that the older could retrieve a bottle of lubricant from the bedside drawer, leaving behind a red-faced Misaki. He was laying stretched out across their bed, knees pointed up and feet resting flat against the mattress.

Haruhiko could just see the head of the boy's cock lying dearly against his stomach, cherry at the tip, and his heart raced. To him, Misaki was the only person he wanted to share himself with, and he hoped that the younger man felt the same way. He could never feel this depth for anyone else.

 

* * *

Haruhiko slipped easily into the boy's canal, and struck up a gentle rhythm, slowly pumping in and out while matching the movement with one hand, stroking his fiancé's quivering length. Just the idea that today they were at last, legally engaged, put him in a tender mood, and though he was unlikely to own up to it, Misaki seemed to be feeling the same way.

It almost perceptibly pained him to see that sweet face twisting in ecstasy below him, wondering what he had ever done to deserve such a beautiful soul as his intended groom.

Haruhiko had always thought of himself as something akin to a tool, used for the hard work in life, but never loved, and always overlooked.

At times he feared that even though Misaki seemed to love him at least as much as he could for their time together, that he failed in some manner to provide for the boy everything that he could ever want or need. Misaki was a strong but sensitive young man, and Haruhiko had to concede that words had never been his forté. Thus, he attempted to bridge the canyon of their relationship by listening, being someone Misaki could turn to or lean on when he needed strength or comforting.

Haruhiko reached to caress the boy's soft chocolate locks, grazing one ear with the tips of his fingers on the way, sending a muted shiver through Misaki's upper half. He leaned into the touch, his eyes shut and lips pursed in an effort to rein in his voice a habit he was successively growing out of the more they were intimate with each other.

As he felt the end ebbing nearer like an oncoming shift in tide, he snapped his hips more urgently, burying himself pelvis to ass into his fiancé's slicked cavern, each movement giving off a curious squishing noise that had the odd effect of making his blood pulse hotter.

Beneath him, Misaki cried wantonly out at long last, his voice pitching low and loud intermittently, and Haruhiko would have liked to have guessed they were timed to his in and outs, but he was too preoccupied to know for certain.

"Haru," Misaki groaned, his eyes fluttering and rolling upward. Precum was now steadily drooling from his reddened organ, dropping harmlessly into the cradle of his smooth belly and making quite the delicious mess therein.

"Are you ready to cum, Misaki?"

"Mmm," the boy hummed dazedly, and Haruhiko took that as an affirmative. He cradled his fiancé's erection tenderly in his hand and gave him a few swift pulls. Before too long the boy was moaning and leaking into his waiting palm, riding out his orgasm with face aflame, with satisfaction and shyness, just as he always did. His eyes slowly flickered open as he recovered, eying the older male.

For a long moment they stared at each other, and Haruhiko swore that he could hear the younger's heart beating loudly against his chest, thrilling him.

"You can… you know, do that… in there," Misaki blurted out, his wide emerald eyes just barely holding a gaze. His courage was dwindling but this seemed worth it.

The permission made him so elated that he did something incredibly rare.

Haruhiko smiled.

The expression was enough to knock Takahashi Misaki off his feet, had he been on his feet at that moment.

It pleased the boy immensely when he could provoke this reaction out of his rather stoic lover. It was like seeing a younger Haruhiko, one who had not yet been trampled on by the world, who had not had to doubt himself because of the affection he had withheld from him by others, who was content and relaxed, singularly for him. It made his heart swell, and at times like this, he even felt bold enough to whisper out those three intimidating words.

"Ano… I l-l-love you… Haruhiko-san."

"I love you also, Misaki."

After that, he fell back, resorting only to breathing and grunts as his palate of sound. His length felt heavy with blood as he kept thrusting, his cock sinking comfortably into Misaki's incredibly warm insides and beginning to pulse. With a strangled call, he surged forward and fell into his climax.

Misaki cried right with Haruhiko as he felt his fiancé cum inside him. The sensation was so new, being that before today, he had never felt it so uninhibited. They had always used a condom, or Haruhiko had spilled his seed on the outside. This was primarily because they had never been ready to deal with the probability of children. To feel his lover's warmth fill him from deep within was a powerful sensation, and Misaki found his body squeezing the older man tight as it played out, stirred by the feeling.

 

* * *

Misaki was laying between Haruhiko's legs as they both settled, his back against the older's chest, skin still flushed from their exertions. His eyes were closed peacefully, and he was drifting somewhere between consciousness and the beginnings of slumber. All in all it had been a day of more excitement than he was used to.

His days ever since he had been with Haruhiko had been a quiet, domestic sort, but then, Misaki was glad that it didn't seem to contain the drama some of his school friends talked about in their lives when he saw them. Some of them thought him hopelessly vanilla for enjoying the small things that he did, but then again, wasn't it right that a person should live their life the way they wanted to live it?

Behind him, Haruhiko was pondering some things of his own, finding his curiosity aroused by what had just transpired, and the probable implications.

"Are you wanting to have a baby, Misaki?" he inquired, keeping his tone deliberately neutral.

Nothing would please him more than to have a little son or daughter if that is how it came to pass running around. The image of Misaki holding their child in his arms was a thing of beauty, and at it the quiet man's secretly aching heart felt salved, a few more years of a lack of affection's burden being lifted off at the notion of such happiness.

"Oh... I suppose that would... possibly." The boy trailed off and began to nibble on his lower lip as he considered the question, weighing the decision in his mind.

"If it happens, then I would be okay with it. But if it doesn't, I think I would be okay too. It doesn't always work the first time."

"And if it does not, would you wish to try some more, to conceive?"

Misaki turned to him, face open to read.

"Yes. I'm scared, though," he admitted, "When it's a man having a baby, it seems really hard on him, and I don't know if I could handle it. But I like kids, and if I was going to have any I would want it to be with you, Haruhiko-san, and we're going to be married... so the baby would have a proper family... I think that would make me happy. And you will want an heir for your lands-"

"Misaki," he cut him off swiftly. "That is the least important reason I have for wanting to start a family with you."

The younger sighed. "I know. Honestly, I do know that, but I just... I feel like sometimes, I should be thinking about those sort of things, because they are things people like Haruhiko-san need to worry about. I wasn't born noble, I don't just _know_ them, so they are on my mind a lot. Even if that isn't a reason to want kids, it's true that having them is good for the future, because there will someone to follow in your footsteps, right?"

"I suppose so."

"And, children, you know, if it happens that way, they can take care of their parents when they grow old. So those are all good things. That's what I'm thinking."

"But you don't want them just because of those things, right? If you don't want them for yourself, that is more important than the practical reasons."

"I... I do want them for myself, though. I don't know that I will be any good at being a dad, but I always thought that when I was older I would have kids, because I just had that feeling. And... Haruhiko-san would be a good father, also." He immediately looked away at the embarrassing admission, staring anywhere but back at the older man.

Haruhiko put both hands on Misaki's jaw, gently tilting his head back so that they could look each other in the eye.

"Thank you." The words, so simple, were spoken with an air that conveyed much more. "And, there is no need to worry, Misaki. I will take care of you every step of the way."

"I want to raise our family together."

**.**

**.**

**END CHAPTER.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The "capitol" is my own design really, but the idea about why the nobles have to have residence there is inspired by the wonderful subject of history. Namely French monarch Louis XIV, "The Sun King," who created a rule that the nobility had to spend at least six months of the year living at Versailles' court - typically a stay of three months at a time, twice a year. Louis also had apartments in the very center of the palace, with great windows, so that he would always be able to "keep an eye on" his subjects.


	5. Dreams of a Prince

Growing up, you want to believe that the person you fall for first in your life will be someone you get into a relationship with. That the first attraction will also be the last. You don't really know better, or know what else is out there.

Those initial feelings of yearning can sometimes be so powerful that they can cause a person to make fatal errors, or, when the flames of the attraction die out, the holder dies a little with them, burned, or pieces of their heart blacken to ash. The first time is nothing to be taken lightly, it thrives or ends more powerfully than subsequent times.

If he was being raw with himself, straight down to the core honest, Hiroki had known that his first love would one day stumble to a close.

In a weird sense of poetry though, he believed in that moment that despite the demise of hope, it would also happen to be his last. Any capacity to imagine otherwise he had shut off years ago, thinking that to harbor such thoughts took some of the substance from his love. What he felt was felt with the entirety of his being, nothing less. To make contingency plans if his success were never to come, he did not want to contemplate.

Hiroki understood himself and other people almost to a fault. A useful ability, though it also came at the price of being oversensitive to things and undercurrents he would have rather been oblivious to. Still, being able to read others did appeal to his meticulous nature, so, as with many other things in life, it had both pros and cons.

He would have had to be blind not to see that Akihiko was hopelessly fixated on Takahiro. Not only because it was brought up to him, but because the more he observed the man's behavior around his unrequited, the more he saw himself - desperately clinging on to the imagined promise that one day, his feelings might reach through and penetrate the consciousness of the other.

When he met up with Akihiko outside of the prince's apartments, he had at first been hopeful. Akihiko had looked so impossibly forlorn that there could be no other cause than that something had happened with Takahiro, something that changed the field. The prince was not a person who held anything else so dearly, and he wasn't the emotional type either, to lose his composure over something small. No, Hiroki had known.

As soon as the explanation left the silver-hair's lips, everything clicked into place. Engaged, huh? How fortunate. He had made his own decisions then, taking initiative and leading Akihiko into the prince's chambers, presumably to decompress. His actual motivations were far from selfless.

When they stepped in through the entryway, several of Akihiko's private servants had been gathered, and upon seeing their master, had made as if to kowtow to him, but the prince wanted nothing to do with anyone at that point. He ducked his red-rimmed eyes behind one arm and gave terse orders to the lot of them.

"Leave." The prince waved his hand dismissively, eyes masked behind the other arm he was holding up to them. "Everyone out."

Akihiko kept striding toward his bedchamber, steps angry and stark as he padded across the elegant mahogany floors.

The gaggle of servants made their way out of the apartments, leaving the only the soft protest of a door to announce their exit.

Hiroki followed behind Akihiko. He was cautious as not to rile his friend, whose despair seemed to have reached a whole new stage. Words escaped him for the intervening time, his lips pursed silently in defeat as his mind raced, taking on a blistering speed. Questions and tenuous answers were the theme.

"Hiroki, stay."

His heart lobbed painfully against the confines of his chest. The words, so brusque and clear, did not offend him, instead making his emotions stir hotter beneath the surface. Did this mean that he was finally needed? But in what capacity? A comfort pillow? Even so, the thought meant that at least Akihiko still trusted him to be the only person around him in a difficult time.

Akihiko had always been like this, never really reaching out to people, save for Hiroki, and the idiot second. The prince was an aloof type, never forming personal bonds except in rare circumstances. He didn't like to show his thoughts or feelings to others. Even Hiroki seeing him this undone was something of an anomaly, being that Akihiko was so steadfastly private.

He wanted so desperately to claim it as proof of tides turning, but some fiber of his being would not accept it, pessimistic for the sake of protecting his tender heart. If he allowed himself to lay bare in front of Akihiko, he risked damning pain, and his mind was well aware of that. Hiroki had been guarded for so long that even now, with the perfect opportunity, his defenses were slow to remove themselves.

He watched as the prince walked around the room in circles, as if lost and looking for a way back home.

He'd never seen his friend so dejected in all the time they had been close. Pain shot through Hiroki and for a moment he was actually angry at Takahiro for hurting the person who meant the world to him. True, it wasn't that idiot's fault, but it felt good to blame his rival, if only for a moment.

After a moment of wearing a hole in the carpet, the prince stopped and gazed out the window. Hiroki wished he knew what had happened at the Takahashi residence in its entirety. If he'd been privy to such information he might have been able to help the other man feel more at ease with rejection. Akihiko was keeping the pain bottled up and that wasn't a good sign if the man ever wanted to get over his infatuation.

The prince went and sat on the edge of his bed eventually, head buried in between both hands, silent as death. It was then that Hiroki chose to speak.

"You know, most people start to cry around this time."

"..."

"Akihiko. Use your words."

Hiroki had known the man for years and while Akihiko may have been an expert at expressing feelings and emotions in prose, he could never really express them well out loud for the world to hear. It didn't really surprise the man all that much that his best friend wasn't opening up, no matter how long the two had been together. So it came as a slight surprise when words started pouring from the prince's mouth.

"It's my fault, old man," the prince mumbled softly. "One shouldn't hold out hope on something that will never come to pass."

The words hit Hiroki like a sword to the heart. Akihiko was rarely sad in front of anyone, preferring to remain aloof and distant. What happened with Takahiro must have hit a chord somewhere within the man's psyche.

"I knew I could never be with him, but when he was single I could at least pretend. Now that he's found someone else pretending will only seem like a waste of time." There was a finality to what he said and it make Hiroki's heart break. One, because he knew how Akihiko felt. Two, because he was worried about what he wanted to admit to himself.

There was no time like the present, he'd told himself earlier. It was now or never and with the prince in his way, Hiroki figured he'd have more than a fighting chance than when Akihiko was coherent. So he walked over and sat next to his friend and wrapped the man in a hug before another word could be spoken.

After mere _moments_ though, he sat back because the feeling wasn't there. Instead he took hold of the other's hands with his and stared into a shocked pair of violet eyes. He hoped they could communicate without the use of words, even though seconds before he'd implored the other to speak what was on his mind.

Akihiko's jaw twitched at the motion, uncomfortable with being touched, but Hiroki could not find it within himself to relinquish his hold. The prince had never much liked being handled, and granted Hiroki wasn't very much that way either, but something in the moment called for the gesture.

He did it out of some desperation, desiring to connect in as many ways as was possible, as if the contact of their skin was yet another channel through which his love might fight its way through to be noticed, and accepted.

Hiroki clutched tightly at his best friend's hands, waiting and mutely imploring in his mind.

His sienna eyes flashed over the solemn, aristocratic face, searching for signs of love's capitulation. His heart beat frenetically, and the beginnings of sweat dewed at place along the back of his neck where his hair hung down in reddish tufts, tickling his skin. He was waiting wordlessly, without the strength to move from his post. His stomach felt at any moment as if it could drop right out and leave him.

Never in his life had he felt so feeble, his whole being locked within the jaws of destiny. So many years of cached affection were leading up to this point.

Mincing words and adding sugar coating wasn't in Hiroki's nature; he was good at spelling it out in a clear and concise manner that left little for debate. That included when he was flustered, embarrassed, or just nervous as hell. This was the latter and all he wanted to do was spell it out for his one-sided.

"I like you, Akihiko," he stated with precision while his stomach fluttered with butterflies. "I know that you have a thing for Takahiro, but now you know it's a lost cause. Will you consider me instead?"

A feather dropping would have made more noise than that of the occupants of the room. Hiroki gazed at the prince and tried to ascertain what the other could be thinking. He knew it was a little too soon and that Akihiko had just been dealt a blow of his own, but the thought of losing the man to another had finally scared the man shitless and he wasn't about to let the opportunity slip through his fingers.

No matter how many times he'd envisioned the answer, nothing could have prepared him for the actual words.

"You are a good friend, Hiroki."

And there it was, his response. Five words strung with his name, pearls of his rejection.

"I am sorry, but I cannot accept your offer."

Hiroki hung his head, eyes clenched tightly shut. He relinquished the prince's hands, slowly. He nodded stiffly, dishonestly so. It wasn't all right.

"Thank you," he rasped, moving to get to his feet. He needed to get away, before he lost what little control he still retained inside of him. Those emotions that had buoyed him into this confession had turned to acid, gnawing at him from within out. There were only so many seconds before he'd dissolve.

"Hiroki."

He turned his gaze back, halting in his retreat.

"I realize that this is an awful time to ask, however..." Akihiko trailed off, uncomfortable again. He shifted his position on the bed, palms pressed into the mattress as he leaned back in his seat. The prince frowned at his own words, and Hiroki wanted to turn away but he didn't.

"Just say whatever it is, Akihiko. It may be a bad time, but I haven't given up being your friend. I hope that we can always be that."

"Of course. Of course."

"So?"

"Takahiro. He asked a favor of me, if I could fill the role of best man at his wedding. I wanted to ask of you, would that be possible, given his status and mine?"

Hiroki wanted to scream. Why did the man insist on torturing himself with handling his unrequited so delicately despite the hopelessness of the situation? Even now, after Takahiro had cut him so exquisitely by getting engaged and shutting that door forever, Akihiko was still intent on fulfilling the man's wishes and requests.

If he didn't understand it to a degree, he would have yelled. But no, he did. He could only hope for himself that he could find a way to be reasonable in his own life as he moved forward; he would try to heal himself until none of this awkwardness remained, if it it were possible. He would not agree to senseless things as Akihiko did with his love.

"That should be... fine. If it's something that you want, then do that. There's no rule against it."

He forced himself to face front again, feet moving without prompting.

It was well past time to leave.

 

* * *

Despite his planning, he never quite made it all the way home, instead halting most of the way through the journey. It was in a deserted hallway of the floor of the palace that housed assorted nobles and their apartments, and it was because he couldn't imagine walking another step at that point.

He leaned against the wall of the passageway, shoulders slapping against the wood paneling with soft thud.

Hiroki sighed disconsolately, and then let his strength wane, sliding down to seat himself on the marbled floors. The material was cold against his skin even through his clothes, and he felt a tremor pass through him as he made the connection to those cool hands, held by him but not holding in return.

All he wanted in that moment, all that he desired, was to be left alone.

 

 

**. . ... . .**

He would not be granted this wish.

**. . ... . .**

"Ah... excuse me, but are you all right there?"

The nudge against his mental citadel made the man twitch, wondering who had the gall to interrupt him in this state.

Hiroki lifted his head painstakingly, being met with a pair of sturdy knees clad in soft looking trousers that clung to the shape of the newcomer's legs, advertising their well-formed length. He brushed off the thought, rising his head higher to get a look at the person's face.

Only to find that he had to seriously crane his neck to do so. Whomever this person was, they were abominably tall in his opinion. What, were his parents giants to have bred such a strapping specimen?

The stranger's face was gentle and pale, crowned by raven black strands of hair that were worn long and shaggy. Clouded azure eyes appraised his condition, seeming for all the world to give off the aura of peace without a single action on the man's part. He had a cautious smile to his lips, as if he had seen something wonderful, but was somehow trying to suppress his joy.

"I am fine," Hiroki answered resolutely. His eyes flickered to the floor again, feigning disinterest so that he might be left alone.

"I know it is not my place, but if I can do anything to help... ah, my apologies. I haven't even told you my name yet, have I? I suppose that would be the right procedure, yes?"

He bowed, head ducking down with his torso. Given their proximity, the stranger was now very much intruding upon his personal space with the motion, and Hiroki pressed back against the wall subtly. The raven head lifted after a polite moment, not pulling out of the prostration, but tilting awkwardly to meet Hiroki's gaze.

"I am Kusama Nowaki. If I may be so bold, you are the prince's advisor, Kamijou-sama. I don't believe we have met before, but you are well known..."

Hiroki blushed a pale rose. Something about having those eyes so close was dazing him. "Kamijou Hiroki," he offered gruffly.

Nowaki smiled undisguisedly. "And are you all right? Can I help you back to your apartments, perhaps? Forgive me, but I don't think the floors will be very comfortable to stay all night on, and you will catch a chill."

Hiroki privately agreed with that, but he was too stubborn to move. There were too many artifacts poisoning his mind at this moment, and he doubted that a change of scenery would suddenly cure anything.

"No thank you."

"..."

Nowaki stood up straight, seeming to consider something. Hiroki payed him no mind, placing two fingers on his knee and absentmindedly toying with a wrinkle in the leg of the pants he was wearing, trying to let his problems dull down to a level of numbness.

There was a thud beside him, and the weight of another presence at his right. Hiroki looked on incredulously as Nowaki sat on the floor next to him.

'What a strange fellow,' he exclaimed inwardly, brows furrowing on the exterior. He felt questions rising up, and thought to lend them voice, but ultimately, declined. Hiroki stared back at his legs and remained silent. Honestly, so long as the man did not press him, he could care less that he sat there, even if the behavior was puzzling.

So they existed for a few minutes' time, neither making any pass at conversation. The atmosphere was peaceful for the most part, except for every so often when Hiroki could feel the sensation of being watched, and he would bide his time, wondering what Nowaki was thinking about to do what he did. It unnerved him not to be able to figure out the man's motives, as he was so rarely caught off guard by anyone.

The situation eventually reached a tipping point for Hiroki, and he felt compelled to make a venture at speech.

"So, Kusama-sama, is there any reason you are out so late without any servants by your side?"

"Ah, well, I was reading in the library for a long time, and I wouldn't want anyone to wait for me, so I told them I would go alone. Also, you can call me Nowaki, if you would like to."

"That's a bit impertinent."

"If you say so, Hiro-san."

"That is even more so."

Hiroki's eyes flashed at the nickname, so casually uttered, as if the man had been using it for years. He could not recall them meeting, and especially not him ever providing his consent to be named thus. It wasn't as if Nowaki was a stranger; when you lived in the capitol, you had an eye for who was nobility. Being Akihiko's advisor also exposed him to the majority of the courtesans, and it was his personal duty to know the important families.

The Kusama's were relatively new, having been founded three generations back when the then-monarch had granted them land and title as a reward for their brave service. Hiroki supposed it would have been Nowaki's great-grandfather who had saved the king from run down by an out of control horse and carriage.

After that day, the family had joined the ranks of the nobility, and their star had been ever rising since. Today, if Hiroki was forced to admit, it, they even outranked his own family, as much as it pained him to know. The Kamijou clan would always be proud, but they were no longer the second family in the land as they had been in years past.

Hiroki exhaled a long gust of air and then carefully got to his feet, squaring his shoulders manfully.

"If you'll excuse me."

But, then, Nowaki was already making to stand too, following after the prickly lordling like some kind of chick with its mother.

"I'll walk you back," Nowaki stated pleasantly, repeating his previous offer. His eyes seemed to twinkle with merriment, and Hiroki gave up trying to place the reasons why. What about him was so incredibly amusing that the man had such expressions? Or was that his default look? He couldn't be sure, so he pushed it away without analyzing further.

He started heading in the direction of his apartments, strolling along with a stiff gait. Nowaki trudged along beside him, not saying a word.

Even so, the silence was welcomed, as Hiroki had quite enough to contend with on his own, and his mind acknowledged that. Numerous feelings to let go of, so that he might continue on being the friend that Akihiko desired, and only a friend. Not some greedy lover waiting to pounce.

Fortunately for Hiroki, he was soon outside of his door, but unfortunately he still had one little duckling nibbling at his heels when he arrived.

He looked Nowaki up and down with one hand on the door handle, and then dropped his gaze. He swung the portal forward, stepping over the threshold, leaving the thing open in his wake. Taking the hint, Nowaki joined him inside, where they both slipped off their shoes on the sunken part of the floor.

Unlike Akihiko, Hiroki did appreciate things that were more old-fashioned, and this particular custom appealed to his sensitivities, so he was glad that he didn't have to instruct his guest to follow it. He vaguely wondered if the young lord practiced it in his own home, and that might be why it came so naturally for him. Despite his fresh appearance, he had the vibe of an older soul.

Or, perhaps, Hiroki was just jaded from seeing the multitudes of noble young men and women who flitted around the court during Akihiko's hearings every day, gossiping behind their hands and laughing abominably loud. The brats were as a whole, disrespectful and ungrateful for the lofty place they had received in life just for being born. It made him wonder if it was a lack of parenting, or just the generations souring as time went on. Despite his following without being asked along, so far Nowaki hadn't done anything concrete to offend him.

The more Hiroki thought about it, the more he remembered about the raven head's family. Or, rather, the lack of one.

Roughly fifteen years prior, the two men who would have been Nowaki's fathers had been sent out on a diplomacy mission to another kingdom across the sea, and during the eve of their return trip, there was a storm that brewed on the ocean surface, and the liner carrying them had tried to divert to shore.

Due to the poor conditions, the ship pulled into what the navigators thought was a harbor, to instead be met with cliffs. Most of the crew and passengers drowned when the boat sank, only a handful were able to keep swimming long enough to reach a break in the rock face where they could climb to level ground. Among the causalities were this young man's fathers.

Hiroki wasn't sure who had raised the boy they left behind, but appeared that someone had filled that role, as he had the proof standing expectantly in his doorway.

"You have a very nice home, Hiro-san," Nowaki commented, his eyes gazing ahead as if to soak in the details. He made no move to come in further though, seemingly waiting for a prompt or permission to do so.

"Nonsense, you haven't even seen it yet."

"Oh, but I would like to, if you're offering!"

"Who offers that? ! I never said anything of the sort."

Hiroki huffed, shoving both hands into the pocket of his sweater.

This was starting to irk him. Why did he have to feel so nervous, in his own apartments?

It was true that hardly anyone came to visit, and he could chalk up his anxieties to that fact if he desired, but deep down he knew it was something about his visitor, too, that was throwing him off balance. What the exact element was, he could not yet pinpoint, but his curiosity was stirred. He supposed that was the only reason he was allowing this circus to go on.

Nowaki had, just minutes ago, interrupted him during a particularly low personal moment. That was the first concern.

He had already gotten the reason why Nowaki was there at all out of him, but why would the man stop to bother him? Most would trudge on, forget him. Some might even be so out of it that they wouldn't have noticed Hiroki sitting on the floor at all. He would have liked it better that way. He should have continued on home in the first place, to endure this in privacy, but he found when he left Akihiko's rooms that he couldn't dream of making it that far with the things that he was feeling.

The second concern was that the man had followed him all the way home. Hiroki could envision some particularly bold stranger speaking to him, but nobody would have taken it so far as to walk him back, or to not leave at the door and come inside, instead. This only piqued his confusion further.

"Come inside then."

"Really?"

"Yeah, shut the door behind you."

Nowaki immediately did so, his usual smile jumping a notch in the process. Hiroki surveyed the newcomer appraisingly. Perhaps he could talk the man's motivations out of him, given enough time and the right opportunity. Though not pushy, the other did seem intent on staying a while, so Hiroki had decided to let it be.

"If you want something, you're going to have to get it from the kitchen yourself."

"Oh, is your staff sleeping for the night? It's fine, I'm not hungry."

"No, they don't exist. I have a housekeeper come in a few times a week, and she prepares meals when she comes to last me until her next visit, but that's all I require." It was true. Hiroki preferred to keep things simple, spartan almost. He was a grown man. To an extent he could take care of his own business.

"Not even for company, Hiro-san?"

"For... company?"

"Yes. I still employ the chef I've had my whole life, and my father's butler, too. They're really great people, and it can get lonely at times so it's good to live with other people around, so that there's someone to talk to. Sayuri-san even gives me cooking lessons sometimes. I started liking to do it when I was maybe ten years old, and I've continued learning since then. Oh, that reminds me, are you hungry, Hiro-san? I can make you something nice to eat." Nowaki smiled at the end of his disclosure, hopeful, as if he really wanted Hiroki to ask him to cook for him.

Unfortunately for the eager young man, Hiroki was feeling nonplussed, hearing about such unfamiliar concepts. Hiroki could make his own tea, he could warm up the meals left for him, but he had never actually cooked in his life. Company was also fairly unusual. People. Understanding them, fine. That was a necessity in his work. Socializing with them, that was something completely different, and not his strong point.

"I'm not hungry either."

"Okay."

They continued on into the living room of the apartment. Hiroki not only didn't feel like drowning his thoughts with sleep, but he seemed to be hosting this man, and it would be rude to just sidle off to his bedroom and lock the door. Thus, he took on the proper approach, and they seated themselves in two of the armchairs in the space, and he didn't even so much as look at the book on his end table.

Though, it did prompt him to remember a piece of information he had been told earlier on.

"So," he began, "you said you were in the library at this time of night? Do you not have books in your apartments?"

Nowaki responded to him, cheerful demeanor not at all diminished. "Oh, I do, Hiro-san, but there are some that only the palace collection has. Also, I find that when I study, it's easier to do it in a place outside of my home, so that I am not distracted by anything. A change of pace helps keep my mind clear and focused. That's why I was there tonight; I was studying a few things to keep ahead of the new methodry in my work."

Hiroki's eyes brightened with a curious spark. He would be remiss if he didn't admit that he admired those with a keen work ethic, or the drive to learn something new. He leaned forward in his seat, piqued.

"And what do you do for a living then?"

"I am hoping to become a children's doctor. For now I am just training to be one, but that's my eventual goal."

"You seem a bit young to be already in residency, Kusama-sama, how old _are_ you?

"Please, I honestly don't mind if you use my first name. It's a bit strange to be called so formally. And, I am twenty years in August, Hiro-san."

"Assuredly too young. How did you get to where you are then," Hiroki paused, and against his better judgment, acquiesced with, "Nowaki?"

"My family employed a doctor who helped check up on me as I was growing, and I guess I've always been interested by medicine. I can remember being about, oh, eight, and I asked him about where pills came from, and how people who break their leg are helped by having them wear casts. Small things, over the years.

"Finally, when I was thirteen, my physician said that he believed I could excel in the field, and that he would help me with my studies until I was old enough to test at university. So I suppose that would have made me his intern for the time being, but he taught me a great deal of things, and when I left high school and started to attend college, I was ahead in so many classes that my professors wondered if I really needed to take them at all.

"So they got in touch with both the authorities, as well as the hospital here, and it was decided that they would devise a special examination, both written and practicum, and if I satisfied those standards, I could progress forward despite my age. I was able to do this, and so I skipped over a lot of what I would have had to take in the first several years of school. For two years I applied myself with graduate studies, and now I've begun residency, which will continue for a few more years.

"The simple answer is that I started young, and that's how I've been able to accomplish all of this."

Hiroki nodded, approving of it despite his initial suspicions. If that's all it was, then that was a lot of solid, hard work on Nowaki's part.

The reason Hiroki had had some trepidation was because it wasn't uncommon, among the elite, for the sons and daughters of high ranking nobles to be granted degrees for that reason alone. Some even went through school, ignorantly undervaluing the fine education they were offered, and performing abysmally in every lecture, only to still be awarded at the end.

It was the sort of practice that really got on his nerves, and though he didn't completely believe Nowaki was one of those people, he had worried that that was the case.

He looked over at his guest. The man seemed to have settled comfortably into his seat, arms resting on the wings of the chair and feet planted casually on the ground. Nowaki's legs were so long that his feet were stretched far out in front of him just to have them placed straight. Just how tall was this guy, anyway? He had to be over 180 centimeters, that was for certain. Most of his height appeared to be in his limbs, also, compounding the inequity of it all. And at 20, there was even the possibility that Nowaki could grow taller than he already was. Why did someone four years younger than him have to be such a towering figure?

Hiroki double-taked. And why was _he_ going on, staring at someone else's legs for so long? That sort of behavior... it usually... but he didn't feel that way, not in the slightest! How could he possibly?

"How about you, Hiro-san, do you do anything else beside what you help his highness with?" Nowaki inquired pleasantly.

Hiroki sat back in his chair. "Sometimes I work at the capitol's university," he muttered, "but not often. Mostly just consults and assistance with one professor in particular."

He sighed, thinking of the situation. Because of his feelings toward Akihiko, he had uncomplainingly borne the burden, spending more time on that than on his tenuously held dreams. "I would go more often if I could, but being his advisor eats at the majority of my time."

"Is there something you would like to do in specific, Hiro-san?"

"Teach."

"Really? I would think you'd be great at that!"

"Wouldn't know, as it stands. I've been a substitute a handful of times but that's not the same as having your own lectures day after day, and getting to choose how to handle them. As, who is to say that I necessarily agree with how one person covers their material, or that the out of class work assigned is adequate. It's generally not, but it's not my place to disagree with it because I have no tenure."

"You know, you still could do it if you wanted to. Hiro-san is very wise, I can tell, and if that's what you want to do you should go after it with all your might."

Hiroki remained silent. It was kind of Nowaki to say that, but was that really possible at this stage in his life?

His days went on, if not to his dream specifications, but they were satisfactory by most standards. He had an important position that gave him honor. If he were to turn away from it to try and pursue this other, would that be a good decision? He would not be able to start right at the top; he'd probably have to keep on assisting first, and work his way to where he wanted to be. He would no longer be his own master and Hiroki wasn't sure if that would do for him.

It was so much to consider.

His gaze drifted around the room, alighting on the wall clock and making note of the hour.

"It's getting late," he announced finally, mind buzzing as it registered the shift from company to what would soon be him alone once more. Some of his emotions were welling up again, but, curiously, not even half as strong as they had been tearing at him before. What the cause of that was, he would have to puzzle out later.

"Oh, yes, it is." Nowaki looked where he was, also seeing the time. "I guess I will excuse myself. Though, if it's not too bold, I would like to see Hiro-san again soon. I hope that we can become friends."

Hiroki sent him a look of discombobulation.

"Ah, sorry." Nowaki laughed, seeing the face. "I am a bit forward despite myself. I honestly do want to spend more time with you, Hiro-san, but at your convenience. Can I call on you tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow?"

"Or whatever day is best," Nowaki reassured him with a warm smile.

"I suppose that wouldn't be..." Hiroki turned his head down, chin nestled against his shoulder, "completely disagreeable." He couldn't look Nowaki in the eye for reasons unbeknownst to him, so he averted his eyes on principle.

What he wouldn't say was that he was starting to come around to the idea of company. It truly wasn't as bad as it had sounded when Nowaki had first mentioned it.

**.**

**.**

**END CHAPTER.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Concerning the first half of this chapter, I am sure a lot of you expected something similar to canon with the 'blindfold' incident. I have to admit that in my first draft I was going to go that route. However, I began this chapter, spent a while writing other, future chapters of PPB, and then returned. By that time my opinions had modulated into what was written this time around. I am happy that I changed it to this. For some existential reason I find it more aesthetic and "correct" than the original plot I had planned out. Hope you enjoyed it for what it was. After all, I guess I suppose it might have been a lot less painful for Hiroki to use his words to express his feelings rather than using his body to do so.
> 
> And, yay, Nowaki is here! I like that man. Recently I found out that his seiyuu, Canna Nobutoshi, was the voice of one of my favorite characters in the first anime I ever watched, Uta Kata. That made me giddy.
> 
> Eh, let me know what you think. I always feel a lack of confidence writing Hiroki and Nowaki even though I love their characters. And yep, you did read right - Nowaki has fathers, not mother and father. That's the cool thing about PPB, it can go either way. Most of the main characters in this have one of each though.


	6. Nostalgia No Baai II

  
**(** March 27, 2002 **)**  


* * *

Masamune and he exited, the driver holding open the door for them both as they hoisted themselves up and out of the automobile. With them came a few staff members from Ritsu's household, there to chaperone their outing together. As they were both young, and not yet wed, this was seen as the only way to keep things appropriate, something that his mother and father were very conscious of. More so than even Takano's parents, who didn't seem to care if the boys went off on their own whenever they spent any time at Masamune's home. No questions were asked.

It was Ritsu's birthday today, and also the first day that the sakura had awakened into full bloom. Naturally, the most obvious choice for a celebration was to have a viewing.

They had chosen to do this at the capitol's famed green space, nicknamed Coronation Park for the crowning that had taken place there over a hundred years ago. It was a sprawling place, surrounded on all sides by great stone walls like the capitol itself, but the foliage within revolted, creeping plants and boughs of trees spilling over the tops of the barriers here and there, lending a kinder appearance from the outside.

It was a popular place, and especially now that the King had deigned to make an appearance there that afternoon to give an opening speech. Many of the court had gathered, so as not to be missed among the numbers, and thus Ritsu's birthday had turned into a rather busy affair, with all the background noise they seemed to be looking forward to. As they walked into the park to find their spot, everyone was clamoring cheerfully within their groups, old and young.

Upon the stage set up in the center of it all were a few key members of the elite, their leader, and the heir to the throne, the prince Akihiko. The latter stood at his father's side by the pedestal with the microphone stand, there for support and to be seen; he would not be making a speech also, though attending would probably prepare him for this small duty in the future.

The prince's violet hued eyes stared out across the crowd, taking in the clumps of people beneath their chosen trees. Though, with the way he looked around, Ritsu had to worry if he really _saw_ any of them. There was something in that gaze that spoke of indifference, of the royal's mind being engaged elsewhere. It was unnerving, liking seeing emptiness manifested in physical form. Unconsciously, he pitied the prince for his unnamed woes.

It was strange to reflect on how happy today, no, his whole life was at the moment, and how there could be anyone else in the world who instead felt so down. Life was often said to be about balance - the yin with the yang - but Ritsu truly didn't understand the concept when it was reality. No one should be sad, especially on a beautiful day such as this one, so why was the heir in that vein? What were the problems weighing him down?

"Each year, for a fleeting time, the sakura bloom, sharing with us their beauty. They show us the cycle of nature, from birth to growth to the end. Through viewing them, we reinsert ourselves into that circle.

"I trust you will all enjoy them this year, as I know I and my family will. Please, let us have a wonderful Blossom Day, and let this memory of peace embed itself into mind to last us the rest of the months ahead. Thank you."

It was short, as most of the monarch's speeches went, but Ritsu supposed it was because this was something just for fun. It wasn't as if the King was making any important declaration, just a minor appearance. Fuyuhiko Usami, first of his name, liked to be seen often amongst his court.

Ritsu's father had said that was because he wanted to keep the love of his people, and that it was a good thing that he made these showings. Ritsu didn't disagree. The royal seemed amiable enough, unlike his heir, who, as with any other appearance, seemed quiet, and off in a different place in his mind entirely. He was sure that the Crown Prince was nice, but something about the nature of the - slightly - younger boy made Ritsu curious.

"Onodera."

He quickly turned his attention to his guest of honor. Masamune was standing just behind him, hands stuffed in the pockets of his coat and unreadable as ever. His train of thought broke off upon seeing the other young man, and he wondered what it was that he wanted to say.

"Yes?" he found the gall to prompt.

"Do you want to take a walk with me? They're still getting lunch set out and we can see the blossoms for ourselves, up close."

"Okay," Ritsu answered eagerly, eyes shining with joy at the idea. The notion of going on a walk alone with his senpai made his heart beat a little faster, as they didn't often get to see each other out of school lately, and whenever they did, there were even fewer moments when it was just the two of them. Ritsu ran through scenarios in his mind as they started toward one of the small trails of the park that circled through a row of trees and then back around eventually.

The day was cool but patchy-skied, blue peeking out through holes in the gray cloud layer above.

Where they walked was isolated, the rest of the park-goers seemingly still eating or chatting in the main area - they really were all by themselves. Sakura on either side marked the dimensions of the path, and Ritsu's eyes darted from side to side, taking in each. When he was younger, he remembered coming here with his parents, and his father starting a tradition where because it was his birthday, he had the say about which tree bloomed the most beautifully. It was a little silly and pointless, but he had always kind of liked choosing, too.

Every so often he chanced a look at Masamune, and thankfully was never caught in his spying. Even with the backdrop, the older boy was still more handsome than anything around them, or so went his opinion.

Though it would have been nice, it was actually too scary to walk closer to Masamune than he did. Ritsu flitted along the very edge of the trail, the elder walking nearer to the middle. The problem with this though, was that standing and walking under the lower boughs of the trees, Ritsu was slowly getting a head full of petals that dropped off their branches and straight into his hair.

After a while he thought to ignore them, because only more would fall in, but that was when Takano strode over to him instead of moving forward. Ritsu stopped where he was, curious, and then scrunched his eyes shut with embarrassment as Takano's hand loomed over him. Long fingers rubbed through the soft hair on the top of his head as the older boy laughed, quietly. The fingers pulled some of the petals from his locks, sending them flying off to the ground below.

"You're a mess," he benignly told Ritsu. "Why are you walking all the way over there, anyway? I wanted to take a walk _with_ you."

"W-What?" Ritsu started. "We are walking together though, Senpai."

"I know, but I wanted to walk _this_ way." Masamune trailed off his sentence by removing his hand from Ritsu's hair, and instead using it to hold the younger boy's hand in his own. "Is that okay?"

Ritsu flushed bright red, but opening his eyes a small crease, he fervently nodded. Senpai's hand was big and engulfed his by a lot, but his skin was nice and warm on Ritsu's, and just the idea that the older had been thinking about this, and wanted to do it made him agree. It never ceased to amaze Ritsu that Masamune actually seemed to like him back.

Keeping contact, they walked for a few minutes more before hitting another stop on the road. They came to a clearing where the sunlight touched the earth and the sakura trees waved in the gentle breeze.

Ritsu turned toward Masamune with questioning eyes as the older of the two halted their forward movement. He gazed at his senpai with a look of adoration that he couldn't cover up anymore and noticed there was the slight tint of a blush on the other's cheeks.

"Senpai?" he asked softly.

"Happy birthday." Masamune trained his eyes on Ritsu, handing over a small wrapped box. "I hope that you'll like it."

Ritsu took the present from him. They stood there in silence as he pulled at the paper on the outside, reverently unwrapping the precious gift. Even though he knew they would be celebrating together, to have the older boy get him something made Ritsu terribly happy. He knew that whatever it was he would definitely like it, if only because Masamune had been the one to buy it for him.

He pulled off the lid of the small square.

Inside, nestled in a bed of velvet was a silver ring, simple in design apart from etchings on the metal. Hands shaking minutely, he pulled the band out and held it up to read the words.

' _Forever And A Day Is What We Have._ '

Ritsu's eyes widened in disbelief, taking in the romantic sentiment.

Ritsu knew that it was an engagement ring, and so it shouldn't be that surprising, but the thought that Masamune had come up with this on his own only made his pulse race. He had to read the words again just to make certain he hadn't mistaken them in his enthusiasm, but, no, they were exactly that. Ritsu immediately vowed to himself that he would wear it every hour of every day, and never take it off unless he absolutely had to.

"T-t-thank you," he spoke, face a flush with both excitement, embarrassment, and ardor.

Moments after the words left his lips he could feel his face being pulled upward, and he didn't even have time to register a thought before he felt senpai's lips on his. Their first kiss was soft and felt his fingers entwine with Masamune's longer digits. Ritsu didn't even have a chance to try to push away before he felt his knees start to give way, but a strong arm wrapped around his waist and he was held up by Masamune. The feel of the elder's lips on his as well as the embrace made him feel loved and protected, like nothing in the world could ever tear him away from that magic.

Even when they broke apart it felt as if some of the sensation lingered, setting Ritsu's head to spinning. He leaned against Masamune, mouth gaping as if trying to think of what to say about any of it, all of it, but nothing was coming out. The older boy held him snug and close, and he decided in the end to remain quiet, lest he embarrass himself by saying the wrong thing. His heart was fit to burst with excitement and notions of the future they would share.

"Will you wear it?"

"Yes," he conceded shyly, yet steadfastly. He dared to peer up into the other's eyes, and there they, like Masamune's mouth, seemed to be smiling, and he knew that the other was as happy as he was in this moment.

"Lend me your hand. I'll put it on for you."

Ritsu felt a fluttering in his stomach that would not be ignored, but he still stuck out his left arm, waiting with eyes glued to his fingers, anxious to see it all. Masamune took the band from him, holding it and singling out his fourth finger, sliding the ring firmly on past the knuckle. As it went on, the youth trembled happily, finally feeling a sense of realness setting in despite his disbelief at his luck still not being quelled.

He had a _ring_. That meant this was all really going to happen. It wasn't just a dream.

 

**.. . . . ..**

**June 25, 2002**

**. . ... . .**

Ritsu didn't know what to make of all of this from the beginning.

It wasn't that he didn't wish to spend more time with Senpai, or that he didn't acknowledge it would be good for them to be together in order to know each other better before their marriage, but he was honestly perplexed at the whole idea of it. Despite having now spent five and a half euphoric months betrothed to the one that his heart called to, Ritsu still possessed that element of disbelief he was wrestling with on the inside.

They were currently on a short week's break from lessons for the summer term, and it had been their parents' idea that the boys should spend it together in order to strengthen their bond. This had led to Ritsu coming to stay at the Takano's house in the countryside, several miles outside of the capitol. Both of their families owned lands not too far from the seat of the king, and that simple geographical fact had been the impetus, apart from their close age, for the two sets of parents to put their sons in a class together when they grew old enough to attend school.

The days were beautiful, and up until this day they had been warm but mild; not overbearing. Masamune and Ritsu spent most of the hours outside, pursuing various activities: horse riding, taking walks, swimming in the river. However, if he had to say, his favorite was what they did this afternoon.

Bringing out a picnic lunch packed up by the kitchen, the two of them had gone outside alone, walking a goodly distance into the expanse of the land to an isolated field past the trees. The grass was tall, dry, and wavered in the wind, but was adorned with patches of sunflowers that had somehow survived the semi-drought. They thrived along the perimeter of the field, making for a more aesthetic contribution.

Near the edge was where the boys had set up their large blanket and eaten before bringing out the books they had brought with them to read.

For some people, they would have preferred to talk, but the silence wasn't uncomfortable. They both loved to read, so that also made a difference.

For Ritsu, being able to sink his teeth into a nice novel or two on this break was a long-waited for chance. Mother and Father were still wary of letting him read to his heart's content during the school session, so the only time he could was after they had checked themselves to see that he completed all his homework. Even then, if it wasn't done up to their standards, he would have to rework it until it was! This usually meant not a lot of free time for trying to get into a story.

Today though, he was making real progress, and if there was anything better than reading, it was being with Senpai when he was reading. Having the other so close brought a new life to the atmosphere, and he was reading a book he knew Masamune had already finished. Ritsu hoped, although it made his stomach flutter to think of asking, that when he was done with it they could talk about the story together, and share their likes, dislikes, and favorite characters. First though, he needed to finish the reading before he could ever consider beginning that talk.

As the hours wore on, the sun burned brighter and hotter, the temperature soaring far above what it had been lately, air heavy with humidity and heat. Both boys began to intermittently fidget where they were sitting, comfort level dissolving beneath the scorching climes. Restless, they tossed and turned, trying laying back and sitting up both - anything to try and be a little more at ease. But, nothing doing.

Masamune was the first one to give up hope of cooling winds prevailing. He sighed audibly, marking his page and casting aside the book on the blanket. Stretching, he stood up, hands grabbing on at the hem of his shirt. He pulled it over his head and off effortlessly, and then took the time to carefully fold the garment before setting it aside as well.

Ritsu hadn't meant to watch, but his attention had been drawn by the sudden movement off to the left of him. When he saw that take place, his eyes widened with surprise, and he even gaped a little, caught off guard by Masamune's sudden discarding of layers, and the skin that removing them made visible. When the older boy began to shimmy off his pants, too, that had Ritsu rapt with watching as well. He wondered if Senpai would stop there, because this was already getting him a little hot under the collar, and he didn't know how much more he could take without reaching a breaking point.

Takano glanced to his side, smirking when he caught two curious green irises pretty much boring into he and his display. Thankfully, he seemed predisposed to leave his underwear on, halving some of the anxiety on the younger man's part. Ritsu quickly averted his eyes back to the novel he was previously engrossed in. What he must think of Ritsu for staring!

For some reason, watching senpai remove his clothes didn't feel inappropriate. Quite the contrary it stirred emotions within Ritsu and excited him that at some point he'd get to watch this on a daily basis, maybe more than once a day even. The idea made him feel dizzy and exhilarated at the same time and started to stir the blood in his groin.

Takano was a beautiful specimen of a human being. His long, lean body was glistening in the sunlight and Ritsu could make out small droplets of sweat rolling along the taut muscles of his chest. For a moment he actually felt his body wouldn't measure up when the time came to show it off. He'd need to work out to ensure he didn't disappoint his fiancé.

"You should do the same if you don't want to overheat, Onodera," the older boy suggested, bared muscle flexing as he made the motions to sit back upon the ground. "It's far too hot today to be wearing long pants or that shirt. No one is around to see you but me, and, that's not so scary, is it?"

There was no denying the logic the spoken words beheld. It was hotter than sin and no matter how embarrassed he was to remove even a small piece of fabric in front of his betrothed, it was either that or die of overheating.

Ritsu turned away from his senpai and started to unbutton his shirt and slowly peel it off. Underneath was a thin undergarment, normally worn while in the bath. For a moment he almost kept that on as well, but knew it wasn't worth drenching the thing in sweat if he was just going to put his other shirt back on later.

Keeping his eyes averted and his posterior as close to the ground as possible, he started to remove his trousers. The task was tedious since he was too stubborn to stand up and remove the garment, so it took rather a long time for the pants to come off. By the time they were past his knees, Ritsu felt as if he'd run a mile. Behind him he could hear his fiancé laugh and it made his cheeks blush furiously.

He could feel the other behind him before he heard the movement. Senpai reached down and helped him remove the pants and fold them before placing them on the ground with his discarded shirts.

"Is it that embarrassing to de-clothe in front of the man you are going to marry one day?"

"Yes!" he sputtered before thinking. "I mean…" He really wanted to crawl into a hole and die, so he did the next best thing and curled into a ball to cover himself the best he could.

"Don't." Ritsu could hear senpai whisper at the same time as he felt a hand on his shoulder. "You are so beautiful; I don't ever want you to feel embarrassed to show yourself to me."

Hearing those words spoken sent chills down the youth's spine and he relaxed a little as Takano-senpai maneuvered him into an open position. Ritsu didn't want to look at the other boy, so he clamped his eyes shut as he felt a finger trace along his arm.

"Onodera." The voice was soft and soothing. "I don't want you to feel embarrassed to look at me either."

Ritsu could feel his hand being moved and then placed somewhere on the other other's body. He immediately opened his eyes and saw his hand on senpai's chest, right over where the other's heart was beating at a fast pace. Choking back a slight bit of shock he looked into the eyes of the man he was going to marry. This was followed by a finger grazing his lower lip. Ritsu instinctively turned away.

He put one hand forward, cupping it up under Ritsu's jaw, and turning it where he would. The boy trembled with anticipation, knowing what he meant to do. It was just like under the sakura blossoms, just like a scene out of his dreams. When Masamune kissed him, he felt on top of the world, his heart beating a frantic rhythm in the hollow of his chest. The older stirred feelings in him that were both thrilling and frightening. He simultaneously feared what would happen, what such simple gestures could lead to, and craved it all the same.

Masamune leaned in, finally ending his brief agony. Their lips met, the raven head's other hand sliding coolly into place on Ritsu's shoulder, pushing on it to bring them closer together in body. He felt his pulse race as their arms and legs brushed against each other, especially when considering how scantily garbed the other was compared to himself.

He squeezed his eyes shut, cautiously trying to press back with his lips, hoping that it felt good for Takano, and that he was not a bad kisser. It was a silly thing to worry about in the heat of things, but he couldn't help but to think of it anyway.

Takano's mouth slipped against his, lips prying at his in different angles each few seconds. He nipped at Ritsu's lips, as if searching for give. The little pricks of tender flesh being worried by teeth got to Ritsu, causing a hot flush of pleasure to redden his face, and for blood to start surging to other areas, as well.

He was then surprised when his paramour pulled back, stating, "Open your mouth."

"W-what?" he squeaked in surprise, not understanding the direction. "W-why?"

"I want to kiss you… with my tongue."

The way he said it was so matter-of-fact, yet Ritsu felt so very embarrassed when he considered the idea. How would it feel, doing it like that? Was Senpai disappointed that he had to stop to ask? Was Ritsu so inexperienced that he didn't even know how to please the guy he loved? Was it all hopeless? How was he supposed to improve?

"Relax." Takano's hand on his jaw left its spot, moving up to ruffle his hair, comfortingly. "Everything is fine. This will feel good. I love you."

All protests were then silenced by those four statements, Ritsu shyly, but willingly waiting, a determination to do this right burning through his brain, leaving no room for faulty thoughts. "I l-love Senpai, too," he offered earnestly, averting his eyes downward.

Masamune stroked fondly at his hair once more, and then his hand settled, burrowing into the locks that hung down against the nape of his neck, twining in and gripping them for leverage. "I'm going to do it now," he warned in a whisper before leaning near.

Shaking only a smidgen, Ritsu shut his eyes and sat still, feeling a gust of warm breath fan across his lips before they were properly claimed. Shyly, he parted them, only to shiver as a wet tongue broached the seal and thrust into his mouth.

Ritsu's eyes seemed to roll back in his head as the heady sensation racked through him.

Masamune's tongue was wet and hot as it rubbed against his own. The slight loss of breath at being thus entwined aroused him, the way Masamune's tongue pushed down on his intermittently, seeking free reign to explore the contours of his mouth was titillating. Ritsu felt the control of the other, and he gave himself up to it, flustered but enjoying it all immensely.

Warmth pooled in his cheeks to the point where Ritsu felt as if he had overheated just as effectively from their contact as from the sun above.

He could feel Masamune's arms tight around him, pulling him onto and holding him in place on the older boy's lap.

Every so often, it seemed as though the elder pushed up against him, a firm bulge beginning to form to where Ritsu could not deny it, pressed into him as he was. Knowing that their kisses were turning his fiance on was unreal for him, he knew they had never kissed like this before, but it seemed as if the stage was being set for actions further than that to occur.

They were very much alone, out here in the field, and the presence of his love was intoxicating to the point where Ritsu was hoping with all his might that he could feel his Senpai in a more intimate way. The teen was getting so hard that Ritsu's briefs were beginning to revolt just the same, arousal swiftly forming beneath the thin layer of fabric.

He wanted him. Ritsu could only hope that Masamune wanted him in that way, too. From the other's actions it seemed like his wish was bound to come true.

Senpai's hands were roaming over his torso, touching in areas that Ritsu would have never thought it would feel so good to be brushed. He even plucked at his nipples, which sent a jolt through Ritsu's body unlike any other. The stimulation was small, but powerful, and only aroused him further. He was really starting to crave the wanton things of his imagination, even though he worried about how going all the way might feel.

He wanted to tell himself that because it was Masamune that it would be all right, but in the back of his mind was that niggling anxiety that he wouldn't be able to go through with it. Would it feel as good as the things they were doing as of now? Ritsu may have had dreams about love-making but when it came to the real thing it was one great big mystery. They hadn't even learned about it in school, so there was nothing for him to base his knowledge from.

Masamune's fingers pinched both of the small nubs, kneading them gently, pressuring the skin no more than was needed to draw a quickened breath out of the younger boy. He pulled at them, rolling the fleshy tips and delighting at the response. Ritsu squirmed and gasped, so close to his ear as they touched.

The warmth of Ritsu's skin tickled against Masamune's chest from time to time, and his mind moved quick pace, wanting desperately to somehow feel all of his lover, not just what he had access to now. Ritsu was so sensitive to his forays, pink-faced and moaning needfully at almost any touch. It was hard not to be enticed by such a beautiful picture such as that.

He pulled back, gathered the younger in his arms, and lowered them both to the ground, positioning himself firmly over Ritsu.

For a moment they lay there, and he let the other sample his weight, their forms pushed deliciously together in the midst of the summer field.

Ritsu's thigh had ended up between his legs, and his knee was snug against the boy's groin, tempting him. Ritsu was incredibly aroused by this point, and it made Masamune wonder if he was already red and leaking for him. He wanted to see how the other looked, lost in the realm of pleasure, especially that which they found together.

Masamune's hands drifted to the band of Ritsu's briefs, loosening them with deft hands, removing their barrier as quickly as was possible. His cock was aching, wanting nothing more than to be buried sweetly within Ritsu, to express his love in a more physical way than the ring he had given him that the boy devotedly wore, or the words he sometimes spoke aloud.

He removed his own final layer, breathing heavier as his mind registered their mutual nakedness. It certainly didn't assuage any of his growing urges, so he pushed past it and made another move.

He foisted two fingers in his mouth, wetting them. He would have loved for Ritsu to do it, but the poor boy looked so buzzed out from arousal and nerves that he didn't dare push him over the precipice any further than he already was. When they were moist enough for his estimation, Masamune knelt and then bent over his sweet paramour, one hand pushing his thigh apart from the other, the second prodding his fingers searchingly at the tense little opening, trying to get it to open for his explorations.

He began by pushing one smoothly inside, his index, circling the digit around, feeling the muscles clamping down, revolting against the intrusion out of anxiousness. Ritsu gasped as Masamune's knuckle slid free, and there was one wriggling appendage stuck in as far as it could be. The sensation was so weird for the younger man that he stared, narrow-eyed down his body, watching where they were joined, and then promptly shuddered with the sheer erotic thrill it sent through him to witness.

Masamune was hovering over him, the older's own cock a deep shade of pink and standing flush against a toned lower belly. Unlike Ritsu's, he was cut, his swollen head standing out proudly for him to see, no fleshy hood creeping beneath the mushroomed crown. His erection jutted above a low-hung set of balls, and the composition was perfect, so inexplicably masculine that it set Ritsu to wanting to feel them under his hands, to roll and cup each as he elicited intense pleasure out of his fiancé, were he not too shy to think of actually making such a bold action!

And that was just a glance at the other himself. The picture was completed by watching himself being carefully fingered, their bodies so very near to joining that each sight seemed to scream intent. The digit inside of him was probing gently but erratic, too, and despite that it only made him gush with pleasure more. Not that he had had too many doubts, but he was pretty sure that Senpai had never been with anyone else, and since he hadn't either, they would be doing this only together. The idea made his heart beat loudly in his chest. He really did love Masamune, and it made him happy that it happened this way.

They would be married in a few years; Masamune was his whole future, and Ritsu was overwrought with joy at the thought. Blissful tears pricked at his eyes, and he feared they wouldn't stop for some time. Soon, he would be able to feel Masamune embrace him from the inside, though the boy's love had penetrated there long before, there to stay for all time. He knew it was silly to cry, but he couldn't stop the small drops from escaping; he had too many feelings to contend with that they had to spill over somewhere.

Masamune, meanwhile, was watching Ritsu too. He saw the boy starting to shake a little, and it made him grow excited as well. Ritsu's body was so beautiful to him, sweet and small and seemingly calling out to him for all the attentions of love. The long, pale as milk limbs, soft but flat stomach, pink pearled nipples, the precious curled feet, and hands that tensed when he touched him. All of these captivated Masamune's attention, but not as much as the boy's face itself.

Ritsu's hair was a light brown, almost the color of caramel, and it was long in the front, framing his visage and giving him a sharp mess of bangs. Bangs that were now plastered to the younger's forehead with sweat, delightfully mussed from their excursions thus far. His eyes were big, a beautiful viridian shade that had the power to make Masamune's heart jump whenever Ritsu found the courage to stare up at him with those lovely irises, sometimes in confusion, sometimes in wonderment, and others, in wanting him. _That_ was the best look of all.

He pushed his other finger into Ritsu, loving the way he initially tightened and then gradually relaxed on it, stretched just a little bit more by the second and closer to being ready for taking in all of him. The younger's length was dripping small beads of pre-cum onto his belly, obviously unable to hold back. Masamune's eyes were drawn to the fluid, a hot rush of pride in that he was the reason for it. There was something about seeing it that provoked his curiosity further. He felt the need to… explore it. To find out just what Ritsu's flavor was like.

His unused hand left the boy's thigh, stalking upward and grasping the sensitive shaft, positioning it up at a better angle. Ritsu tried to clamp his legs together from pure embarrassment, but to no avail. Masamune leaned forward, preventing them from being closed to his access. His head descended, and stopped just short of brushing Ritsu's cock, glancing over it as if trying to decide what to go for first. He beamed in on Ritsu's tip, gently nuzzling the swollen knob between his lips and then sucking. His fingers gave a sharp pump into the younger's hole, dual sensation ripping a repressed cry from Ritsu's throat.

"S-Senpai," he called out weakly, reddening up like a tomato as he accidentally opened his eyes to the provoking sight, "don't, please. It's embarrassing!"

Masamune did not listen, he felt as if he could not hear anything at this moment, preoccupied as he was now that he finally had Ritsu's taste so close for him to partake of.

Skin and musk mingled in it as he lapped at the milky fluid bursting forth from the slit, lending to his tongue a strange texture as well, slightly heavy and leaving a curious after-flavor. He relaxed and pushed further down, slipping another few centimeters down until he had nearly all of Ritsu's length encased within him. The boy's erection was so hot and velvety smooth, so stirring to play with. That he had never tried this before irked at Masamune, both with the way it felt, and the way Ritsu reacted to his favors, weakly raising his hips in a pantomime of rhythm, pushing closer to his throat and the singular warmth it offered.

He wondered how it would feel to be inside Ritsu, given how hot he was even on his fingers, and Masamune shuddered.

If he didn't hurry, he would end up finishing without even getting to find out.

Masamune slipped off, repositioning himself over his little lover, and kissed his neck, warning him of his intent. Ritsu tensed his shoulders but didn't say a word in protest, so Masamune took that as affirmation.

Grasping his cock with one hand, he sidled up against Ritsu, and then began pushing in. Understandably, the boy whimpered then, his arms moving until they found a spot to grab onto Masamune's shoulders, and, once there, they were like a vice grip. He could feel little nails digging into his skin hard enough to leave a mark; but if that's what he needed, Masamune was willing to go along with it.

He slid home until he could proceed no further. His length was cradled snugly, incredible heat surrounding him on all sides.

Ritsu could hardly stand this. It was hard to say what was more at the forefront of his mind - the strange ache it caused to take Masamune in, or the overarching realization that he was _inside_ of him. That they were really doing these sorts of things when Ritsu thought that there was no way they could do them until they were married, years from now.

Masamune rattled him with a few powerful thrusts, and the younger cried out, pressing his fingers harder into their hold on his fiance's shoulders. He tried in vain to clench his legs together. Even though it felt a little good, it was still overwhelmingly difficult to get used to.

"Come on, shh, sit up," the older encouraged him in ragged tones, helping Ritsu to pull himself up and off the ground, even if he didn't understand why they were moving.

Ritsu moaned high and loud as he felt Masamune's cock slide a little out as they changed positions, only to be shoved firmly back, and deep, as he settled himself on top of the elder's lap. He just felt so _full_ , and that if he moved again, the pleasure and the pain would be too overwhelming for his senses. Even more than that, it was as if Senpai had grown bigger inside him from this angle, more of his length sliding home inside Ritsu's tight canal. Masamune was brushing every inch of his interior, and it strained the younger's nerves almost to a breaking point.

If they had been close laying down, this new angle brought them absolutely together, faces mere inches apart.

Now when Masamune rutted into him, it touched that place that lay shallow within him, that when brushed shocked Ritsu with intense pleasure.

He felt as if something extraordinary was building up in his body, the signs and feelings like those of his passion dreams, but so much keener than when he woke up to thighs that were sticky, and memories of glowing brown eyes from nightly reveries. As Masamune rocked up into him, the sensations were a thousand times more intense than anything he could have imagined on his own.

Masamune's broad, strong hands were left at his hips. They encouraged, pushing and pulling at Ritsu to make him move, too, raising up and plunging back down again. It was difficult for him, what with the sharp thrums of ecstasy he experienced with even the faintest of shifts, but he wanted to do it, he wished to please the older boy too, to try and make him feel what he himself was replete with.

He bounced gingerly on Masamune's rock hard shaft, gasping as the length slipped and rubbed against his tender insides, stretching and re-stretching with each new entrance. Something in it felt deliciously exciting, as much as it ate away at Ritsu's willpower.

" _Ritsu_." His reward was hearing his name in those deep tones, spoken with such force that it sent a shiver tearing up his spine within a second.

He squeaked nervously, burying his face into the crook of Masamune's shoulder and neck as his tears started to eke their way back out again, his emotions overflowing. Ritsu couldn't believe this, he just couldn't. He felt so happy he could die, right now, and his soul would surely be sated.

One warm palm touched at his shoulder before caressing up and down, rubbing the boy's back comfortingly as they moved in tandem. Masamune said nothing of his tears, but in this gesture acknowledged them for what they were, he must not have thought that strange, and the idea helped to soothe Ritsu. He couldn't control them after all, so he was glad that it didn't hinder anything.

Masamune's hand at his waist suddenly gripped tight, pushing Ritsu down on his length until he was well and buried. The younger trembled with both excitement and surprise as he heard the older groan in his deep voice, and a hot gush of fluid spilled inside of him.

It jump-started at his own release to watch Masamune as he came, seeing unspeakable pleasure flash across the solemn features of his face and knowing that he had been the cause of it.

Masamune could tell by the other's breathing that he was no longer able to hold back. He grasped Ritsu's cock in hand, aiming it so that the boy's seed cascaded out over his stomach. For some perverse reason he wanted the feel of it on his skin. It felt fair, given he had packed the younger full of his own just seconds ago.

Just thinking about it gave him a frisson of pleasure, but Masamune calmed his thoughts, thinking first of his fiancé. Whispering gentle instructions, he helped the boy raise up and off his lap, and lowered Ritsu back onto the blanket, arranging him belly down, laying against his torso. He figured after all the excitement, it might be more comfortable than for Ritsu to rest on his back on the hard ground.

Masamune curled Ritsu's lithe body against him, combing through the damp, silky brown hair, his fingers raking into the scalp in order to soothe. Ritsu's breathing slowed gradually, but he could still feel the younger's heart thumping against his chest with them lying so close, and he doubted that the rhythm would settle any time soon.

That was fine. Just relaxing now, after their lovemaking was utopia for him, and feeling the coolness of the day as it drew to a close was divine. His eyes moved over the yellowed grass of the field, the bright swath of sunflowers growing skyward at grass' edge, and he felt resolutely at peace.

Masamune stared curiously down at the still blissed-out Ritsu, noting the drying lines of tears running across his cheek. The image made him want to sample it for himself.

He bent his head and licked just under the boy's shut eyes, catching the vestigial taste of salt layering across his skin. Ritsu whimpered at the close touch, and, while he wasn't looking, Masamune smiled, moving over to do the same for the other eye. Something about the flavor and the reaction tickled at him, and enticed him all over again. He would wait for them both to settle again, after all overexertion in this heat was a bad idea, but he was sure he would have to have his Onodera again before the day was done.

And, then, he would stay with him for their many years to come.

**.**

**.**

**END CHAPTER.**


	7. Bet You One Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The text in italics represents a flashback.

Shinobu had never felt more anxious in his life. His body quivered with a nervous excitement that wouldn't make itself scarce. As the moments drew closer to the hour of his plan being put into motion, he was in pieces on whether to worry or to rejoice. Today was the day he was going to do it. Today was the day he was going to ask the man that he loved if that man would marry him and spend their lives together. There was nothing he could think of that he had ever wanted more.

On the surface, there was reality nudging at Shinobu, reminding him that the chances were not good of this happening. It wasn't as if he had ignored that completely. He knew that Miyagi had several reasons why he could reject his offer.

Perhaps it would be too strange for the older man to marry him when he had once been joined to the boy's sister. Perhaps it was their age, though Shinobu had done anything and everything he could to seem mature enough, to counteract the numbers. First and foremost though, and this was maybe the most hurtful fact, but after that one incident, Miyagi had tried to keep his distance from him. He seemed exasperated whenever Shinobu would appear before him, whether to talk or otherwise. He always was polite about it, but Shinobu could tell that his presence wasn't exactly "welcomed."

Shinobu had fallen for the man at a young age, just before his fifteenth birthday. He was aware of how unusual that was, but it was fate, and who was he to argue with that?

He walked a familiar path through the halls, but somehow this day felt different from any other time.

Shinobu suspected it was the question burning in the pit of his stomach that made it stand out. Even if it was probably futile, he had to at least try to ask, right? He wouldn't just give up; he couldn't fathom just fading away without even trying to fight for the person he loved. It was not in his personality to be that way, and it was an affront to his tender feelings only to let them go.

When he reached Miyagi's office, his heart was beating out of his chest already, but the sight that he was greeted with stilled the pace entirely.

For a moment Shinobu stood there, observing him in his tranquil state, watching before making his presence known.

Miyagi's face was smooth, no frown or other expression creasing his features. His dark blue eyes flickered over the pages, scanning them with a practiced stare. He wondered if the reading was for a class, or for leisure. Either way, he knew the elder loved to peruse a good book, and the relaxed happiness he felt emanating from him stirred Shinobu's heart. He almost didn't want to interrupt.

Unbidden, memories of an earlier time surfaced, perhaps conjured into being by a familiar atmosphere.

 

* * *

_"Risako... it was her idea for me to check up on you," he mumbled; expression sour. "At least once a day," he added quickly, blushing and looking away with a scowl._

_"No need for that, I'll be fine. It's not like I'm alone anyway, there's the staff. Anyway, Shinobu, I am sure you have better things that you would rather be doing. I release you from any obligation."_

_Shinobu's heart had beat loudly at hearing that, almost as if wanting the elder to notice it, to refute his claim. He didn't dare look the man in the eye, as anxious as his constitution was at the moment. He wanted to be able to stand up straight and have confidence, but this simple encounter took so much out of him that he could not. He felt like at any time Miyagi would catch onto his plan, and everything would be ruined. He just wanted to spend time with the other. Why must it be so difficult for that to happen? It didn't seem like it was so much to ask for._

_"I promised her," Shinobu replied stubbornly. "So I will be here. Every day."_

_Miyagi's brow quirked quizzically, but he, in the end, shrugged his shoulders and gave in. "Suit yourself, then. It won't be as fun as being out with your friends."_

_"I'm fine with staying here. And they can't answer my questions for me, so nothing else matters."_

_"Oho, so you have questions now? What about?"_

_"School," Shinobu answered quickly. It was the only 'safe' topic he had been able to brainstorm earlier._

_Miyagi wasn't quite sure he believed his ex-brother in law when the kid stated he wanted to speak about school. On the surface it seemed to be exactly what was presented at face value, but deep down he could see the kid's anxious eyes looking anywhere but at him. It wasn't like Shinobu to flat out lie about something, at least not in their minimal contacts together, but it also wasn't out of the question either._

_"You...want to talk about school?"_

_Shinobu quickly thought about a reason for needing the older man's assistance. It hadn't been but a short while ago that Shinobu had been presented with an outstanding student scholarship award. Obviously he didn't need help with grades, but he could try and come up with something...anything to keep the one he had dreams about from finding him out._

_"I need help with a project. I have to interview someone who was alive during the battle at Kabuki Gorge," he sputtered quickly._

_Miyagi's eyes flew open. What was the kid getting at?_

_"Shinobu-chin, I was three months old during that skirmish, I'm hardly someone who can explain what was going on at that time. Why don't you ask your father or mother?"_

_"The requirements don't say the person needs to remember the battle itself, but needs to be able to tell me what went on. You, as a man of your standing, can certainly have studied the different effects the battle had on the country."_

_Miyagi nodded slightly, after all, the youth was telling the truth. Part of his education had been to review different aspects of the battle and their effects on the markets. He wasn't an expert, by any means, but he did know a thing or two._

_"Fine," he muttered. "Don't tell me I didn't warn you."_

* * *

_Shinobu had spent a week interviewing Miyagi whenever he had the chance. Each time the man had been completely amiable and this had encouraged Shinobu; making him want to return all the more. It was on the seventh day that something changed within the younger man and ended up altering the course of his life._

_After cooking dinner and all but setting the food on fire, Miyagi and Shinobu ate in communicable silence. Miyagi corrected his papers and Shinobu went over the notes for his upcoming history class. It all felt rather domestic to Shinobu and he loved the feeling of knowing this was how his life was supposed to end up._

_Once the meal had been eaten, Shinobu insisted on doing the dishes, much to Miyagi's dismay; after all, the boy had just about set the place on fire with his prior attempt at cooking. No one needed a swimming pool in the kitchen if someone forgot to turn the water off or something. Of course arguing wasn't something that was going to work and Miyagi went to the sofa and promptly fell asleep while Shinobu finished up with the nightly dish duty. Shinobu knew Miyagi had servants for that, but he wanted to prove to the man he could take care of him just as good, if not better than any hired help._

_After the last dish was clean and the sink drained he walked back into the front room and saw that Miyagi had fallen asleep, mouth slightly ajar and arm over the top of his head. The sight made Shinobu feel weak at the knees and he felt the same stirring in his groin that usually accompanied most of his nightly dreams about the older man. There he was, vulnerable and peaceful; the most beautiful tableau Shinobu had ever seen in his life._

_Stealthily he moved toward the sofa and stared down at Miyagi. All of a sudden the thought of kissing him popped into his head and it scared him shitless. What in the hell was that? Then again, he wanted to marry the man so he was more than happy to do...other things...too. It was just a kiss, after all. What harm was there in that?_

_Shinobu lowered himself to his knees and felt his mouth go dry moments later. He could feel his heartbeat in his toes and hear it echoing throughout his head. Nothing was going to stop him from tasting that man's lips._

_He fumbled with where to put his hands, scared that if he placed them on Miyagi's shoulders, or, where he really wanted to, on the sides of the man's face, that he would awaken and this adventure would be over. In the end, Shinobu settled for digging his fingers into the sofa cushions on either side of the elder, and, positioning himself delicately, he came to rest over the man's lap, brushing against him as little as possible, and moving not at all._

_He bent forward, closing his eyes as he leaned in. Tilting his head at an angle, he pushed his lips against Miyagi's, feeling the other's soft mouth pliant against his. Shinobu's heartbeat thrummed erratically as he kissed the one he loved for the first time; his first kiss with anyone, actually. That was what he had always wanted, not to have that moment stolen by another, someone who he didn't feel for. Now that misfortune could never befall him._

_He burned to take it further. If only this weren't so closeted, if only Miyagi was awake, willing, caring toward him. Young as he was, he felt that he knew exactly what he wanted, and this was only a slice of it. One day, Shinobu was certain that they would be together, truly be together, and not this connived facsimile of affection that he was staging. One day Miyagi would hold him snug in his arms, sharing each other's warmth as lovers, for the rest of their lives. He believed it, even through the hard times, and even then, he felt he could taste it._

_He came up for a breath, not wanting to end it but knowing he had to._

_A shiver of thrill coursed through him, and Shinobu sat back in surprise, not even reacting for a moment._

_What in goodness' name had he just done?_

_He quickly, but heedfully, worked his way off the couch, and, grabbing his things, he ran out of the apartment in record time, mind racing a thousand miles a minute. He could even feel his pulse pounding in his head, and as much as he had bolted, Shinobu came to a complete stop just a few feet down the hall after turning a corner. He felt unable to continue much further, he was ramped up that much._

_He let his bag fall to the floor, and his hand went over his mouth, breath gusting out and tickling the skin. He traced his lips with his fingers, as if in wonderment. Had he really kissed Miyagi? It was like the notion had originated out of nowhere. Yes, he loved the man, obviously, but that sort of activity he had been trying to work up to a lot slower than his actions just now. It was salaciously bold, and Shinobu could not believe that he had had the courage to pull it off. Or maybe it was desire, more than courage. Perhaps his urges had overflowed, tempting him into doing it. That seemed like the most logical explanation for this forwardness of his._

_Still, he couldn't deny the warmth that was bubbling up inside of him. It was like a confirmation, being able to taste a small part of what it would be like to kiss the man he loved, every day. It cemented his already strong ardor, proving the strength of what he felt. It wasn't him being silly, or young, but he had honestly fallen for Miyagi and to finally get to share some small amount of intimacy with him was powerful.  
_

* * *

Heat flooded Shinobu's face as he shook himself out of his recollections.

He squared his shoulders and knocked his fist against the door frame, rapping twice in succession. The sharp sounds made the professor look up from his tome, smiling genially in anticipation; maybe expecting one of his students or colleagues to be playing visitor. When he noticed the teen in the threshold however, the corners of his mouth tightened. Not in displeasure so much as wondering what the boy was doing there, but to Shinobu it may as well have been a frown. His stomach felt like it could knot at any instant - the atmosphere was not exactly what he would have picked for his proposal.

"To what do I owe this honor?" Miyagi offered, turning back to his book and noting his page before closing it. He set it aside, and folded his arms. Shinobu's fingers gripped tightly around the strap of his school bag, and he stood up a little straighter to make his request.

Choosing a firm, but hopefully nonchalant tone, he inquired, "I wondered if you would come out and eat with me. I want to talk to you about something."

"Ah." The elder pondered, and Shinobu questioned to himself if this game of keeping Shinobu at arm's length would culminate in a refusal, this match. "I suppose that wouldn't hurt anything."

"Really?" He said it a bit more eagerly than intended, and then cursed the crack in his voice that appeared when he vocalized that.

"Yeah, why not?"

Miyagi stood, pushing his chair back into the space under the desk, and giving his table top the once over before walking around it to where Shinobu was standing. "Is here okay fine with you?" Miyagi inquired evenly.

Shinobu nodded wordlessly, if a bit too urgently. In truth it wasn't very romantic to think of proposing marriage to the man in the college's cafeteria, but a lot of people got engaged when they went out to eat, right? The setting was at least fancier than at other schools, being that a great portion of the students were noble, or commoners with exceptional grades who got in on scholarship. The dining room was furnished well and was normally pretty quiet in Shinobu's experience. It wasn't completely hopeless as a serious backdrop.

 

* * *

Once in the dining area, they had at least been able to secure a mostly private dining room, with a door. Still, this didn't seem to quell much of Shinobu's discomfort. Miyagi noticed the boy shifting around in his chair and almost wanted to conk him upside the head and tell Shinobu to stop fidgeting. Doing that would have resulted in more annoyance than was wanted, so he kept his cool and just continued to watch Shinobu to see if there was any change in his manner. Miyagi almost wanted to laugh at how uncomfortable it was between the two, but he knew bringing up 'past issues' would have resulted in some unwanted attention.

Shinobu, for his part, was standing at the precipice, in his mind that is. His question was at the tip of his tongue and he just wanted to spill and get it over with. The longer he waited the more uncomfortable he was going to become. Plus, more people had started to enter the dining facility, which meant more of an audience. If he waited any longer he'd have lost his nerve.

"Miyagi," Shinobu said softly before glaring at the older man with an unknown feeling in his heart. "I asked the prince for permission and was granted, so please marry me."

Miyagi dropped his silverware and quickly fumbled for it before resuming his meal.

"That's a good joke, Shinobu, but not exactly something that's going to work on someone my age. On the other hand, when you find the right girl to settle down with, I am sure it will go over well with her." He grinned and took a bite of food, letting the words slide off his shoulders for the time being.

Shinobu scowled and closed his eyes for a second before speaking. "That wasn't a joke, old man, I did ask for permission to marry and out of all the idiots in this kingdom I have chosen you."

This time Miyagi couldn't exactly laugh it off. It was one thing to make a joke about marriage once, but twice was pushing it a little too far.

"That's not funny, Shinobu. Quit saying ridiculous things and finish eating. I am sure your parents are wondering when you're coming home."

The clatter of silverware falling to the table caused both men to look at Shinobu's now empty hands. The younger of the two was shaking slightly from nerves and embarrassment that someone, the one he loved specifically, would even venture to think he was joking about marriage. It hurt to not be considered when he was being as sincere as he had ever been in his life. Why wouldn't the man just listen to what he had to say?

"I am not playing with you, Miyagi. I love you and I am asking you, marry me..." He almost lost his nerve. "Please," he added softly.

Okay, so the kid wasn't pulling the century's biggest joke. If he was serious, then he needed some professional assistance. Best to play it on the logical side.

"Shinobu, I don't even want to get into how poorly thought-out this idea is. One, I am older than you; old enough to be your father. Two, you are too young to know what love is. There is no way that you feel love for me, just some crazy infatuation."

"That's not true!" Shinobu all but cried out. "I may be young, but I have been in love with you for years. Haven't you noticed how much I adore you...how I am always looking for an excuse just to be with you? What do I need to do to prove that I am telling you the truth?"

Had he not just drank some strong wine with the meal, Shinobu may have been crying already. He didn't want to embarrass himself further though, so he did his best to bite back the tears and remain as calm as the situation allowed. This was not a battle he was going to lose; just like General Yamada during the Kabuki Gorge Battle, he wasn't going to take it lying down, and defeat was not an option.

Miyagi wasn't quite sure what to make of the situation. Here was his brother-in-law, ex though he may have been, proposing to him like it was as easy as ripping a page from a magazine. Marriage was a serious business and not one he took lightly. The look on young Shinobu's face was telling him that the kid actually believed he was in love with Miyagi; maybe he had actually been that way for years. Either that or he was blinded by something else. Maybe hero worship or the like?

"Shinobu," he said calmly, treading carefully on this thin layer of ground he had in front of him. "I know you may think you love me, but you must not be seeing it in its entirety. Something is blinding you from reality."

"You're the one who is blinded! Idiot! Can't you see how much I love you?"

That was very similar to what his wife had said at some point in their marriage. It had only lasted three years, but it hadn't exactly been the best three years of the man's life. Risako had been rather interested in keeping Miyagi on quite the short leash when it came to their marriage. He had been happy to let her be the leader in their lives because she was definitely more dominant when it came to...well...everything. Miyagi was more of a go-with-the-flow type of person, whereas Risako had been the woman with the plan.

 

* * *

_"Can't you see how much I love you, Miyagi?" Risako shouted as the man signed on the dotted line for the divorce._

_"People don't usually cheat on the person they love," Miyagi answered calmly. He quickly finished signing the remaining papers and slid them across the table to his soon to be ex-wife._

_Risako picked up the papers and threw them across the room, fuming. "You are an arrogant ass, Miyagi."_

_Miyagi stood up and retrieved the papers from the floor near the window. He knew this would happen because not only was Risako a stubborn woman, but she was also more interested in his land than he himself. Miyagi had known how this marriage was a setup to make sure the eldest Takatsuki had some comfort in the future, but one thing he hadn't counted on was the infidelity. Yes, Miyagi had not been in love with the woman, but he hadn't left her lacking in any other way. If she hadn't been insisting during their courtship that it was only to ensure her stability in the future, then he might have had a different opinion._

_"You stated yourself Risako, this was a marriage of convenience. We agreed to remain married, put on a show for others, and remain faithful to one another so that if any children were born those children would have a good home," Miyagi said as he shoved the papers into the woman's hands. "In a happy marriage a person doesn't have to worry about where their spouse is or if they need to get tested for sexually transmitted diseases because they don't know who that person is sleeping with lately."_

_Risako glared at him with fire in her eyes._

_"Just sign the damn papers and let's get this over with."_

_"Fuck you," Risako snarled as she stood up, ripped the papers into confetti and threw the bits into the air._

_Miyagi rubbed his temples as the door slammed. It was going to take some time to get her to sign the papers._

* * *

"That's the problem, Shinobu. You cannot cling to one ideal and center your life around it; that has no substance. You are young, you will find something else, someone else, so put away these notions, go out there, and find it!"

"I am not just clinging to on ideal; I have an amalgam of ideals in my head. I know we belong together and the logical thing is to marry the one you are fated to be with. That is only part of what I have going for me. I want to share everything with you and in return have you share everything with me, just like a marriage created out of love should be. Why won't you give me a chance?" Shinobu was shaking inside and it was starting to show in his hands as they were unable to relax and stay put on the table.

Miyagi sighed and wished for a portal to take him away from the presented issue. What really got to his head was he was starting to wonder if what Shinobu was talking about could be true. Then he shook the notion from his head; definitely not.

"Shinobu, I know you have conviction and I admire that. But, that being said, I think you are too young to understand the consequences of your request. Getting married is not a game and it's not something I want to jump into again with my ex-brother in law who is seventeen years my junior."

"I could make you, you know."

"...Yes, go ahead and see what sweet rewards you'd reap from it. You'd be acting just like your sister."

Shinobu looked stricken by the harsh comment. Even Miyagi thought better of it once the words settled into the atmosphere.

For a moment Shinobu turned his eyes to the ground, looking ready to lose his composure, but he ripped his head up in the next second, catching the elder's gaze dead on. Though shaken, Shinobu managed to hold his ground, and uttered resolutely, "But I would _never_ do that. I don't want you to accept my proposal because you have to, or out of pity, but only because you really want to be with me."

In that moment Miyagi knew there was no reasoning with the hot-headed young man sitting in front of him. He cared enough for Shinobu to get the conversation over with and move on to something a little less ridiculous. The kid was old enough to take the flat out truth, no matter how much it was going to hurt. Though he hated to bring any pain to Shinobu, he knew in his heart that it was the only way to get him to listen.

"My answer will remain a no."

Shinobu knew he shouldn't have been surprised. Miyagi was a stubborn old fool and he knew it would take a lot to crack his hardened exterior. Still, that one sentence felt like he'd been dunked under freezing cold water; all the air in his lungs completely disappeared within seconds. He had to tell himself to breathe or he'd have passed out.

"Why?" he asked dumbly, trying to think of a reason to stay even though he'd been shot down.

Miyagi sighed. Talking to the ex-wife's brother was a lot like talking to a brick wall. So he didn't say anything, instead he stood up and walked into another room, shut the door and left the kid to think. It was no use trying to explain his position to someone who wasn't old enough to understand.

On the other side of the door, with his hand to the door and tears streaming down his face, stood the boy who's heart had been broken. Not only did he need to scale a wall to reach the man he loved, but he also had to find the key to the door that kept him shut out. Anyone else would have given up, but Shinobu wouldn't give up.

"This isn't over," he whispered to the door. "I'm not giving up on you. I'll always want you."

He turned around, wiped the tears from his eyes and headed home. Sharing these emotions was only allowed in front of Miyagi; he'd never share this part of himself with anyone else.

 

* * *

Once returning home, Shinobu walked passed the servants and into his room. He really wanted to slam the door, but that wouldn't have done anything, save maybe get him a scolding from one or both of his parents on his lack of manners. Who knew what sort of company either might have had in the residence.

Shinobu sat on the bed and pulled out the worn photo he'd kept from his sister's wedding to Miyagi.

The photo had been of him and Miyagi, along with a few other individuals. Shinobu had torn the photo so only he and the other man remained, side by side in the same type of garb he wanted to wear when he and Miyagi finally married.

He'd never have let anyone know about such a photo since it was completely unlike him to flaunt something so sentimental. Instead he kept if under his pillow, safe in an envelope. Said envelope was put into a special hidden compartment in the headboard of the bed when he wasn't around so none of the maids would discover his secret.

Another tear slipped down his face and landed on Miyagi's hand in the picture. He wiped the liquid away and put the picture back into its place. There was no time for crying; a new strategy was needed to win the man.

A slight knock brought Shinobu back from his thoughts.

"Shinobu-sama, it is time for the evening meal," some random servant called into the room.

"Tell my family I will be there momentarily," Shinobu answered back, wiping his face and standing up. He would think more after dinner. It's not like it would take too long to get the meal over with - he wasn't that hungry anyway for obvious reasons. He just needed to show up for a while, be excused, and then he could begin to plan his next moves in earnest.

One element was for certain - doing exactly what he had just done was not going to cut it any more.

 

* * *

Shinobu sat at his place at the long table, to one side of his father, across the table from his mother and sister. Just like most other evenings, they went through this farce of dinner, asking shallow questions about each other's day, and tuning out at the responses gleaned. When he had been younger, Shinobu had been fooled into thinking that when he would explain about school or a friend that he was listened to, but that was not actually the case. He had since then learned.

It disheartened the teen to know those were the facts, but what could he do about it? His parents and sibling were set in their ways, and it wasn't his way. If he could ever achieve his dreams of having a family with the one he loved, this was not the manner in which he wanted things to play out.

If Miyagi and he had children, they would have meals together, but he would actually get involved with his sons or daughters, because he really did want to know how their lives were going. He wouldn't ask if he didn't care. He just wasn't that sort of person, and it worked the other way too. Shinobu never revealed any information he was not directly asked about. Not out of malice, but more because he didn't want to draw too much attention onto himself.

He listened to his mother and sister banter about the new, single men at the court. Shinobu couldn't have cared less about the men at court since his mind was still on Miyagi, but the fact that his sister was even thinking of yet another conquest just after the divorce was finally finalized pissed him off.

She may have been his sister and his only sibling, but the fact that she had hurt the one Shinobu had given his heart to meant he would never forgive her that fault.

He, being the younger sibling by eleven years, even if he was a boy, meant he needed to let his sister speak, so Shinobu decided to glare at her while she talked about this man and that man. God, she really pissed him off.

Once his sister and mother took a breath, his father addressed him.

"So Shinobu... care to tell me why I heard from a friend that you asked for permission to become engaged today?"

Shinobu's eyes lifted from his plate, gray irises narrowing as if in expectation of battle. He calmly drew himself up to full height in his chair, noting his mother and sister's attention shifting to the two men at the table. Once settled, Shinobu spoke plainly.

"That's because I did ask for permission to become engaged today. I know the laws; the prince or king must approve of these sorts of measures. As to why you heard about it, well, clearly your friend, whoever they are, couldn't resist the urge to gossip about it. Thus, they passed the news onto you."

"You have a smart tongue for a son of mine, Shinobu. Well then, my next question. I'm sure you know already what I want to ask, but perhaps I need to remind you just so you understand. He is your brother-in-law. Ex, but the bonds are still there."

"No, they are not-" Shinobu began to protest, only to be cut off from a loud gasp across the table.

"You asked about _Miyagi_?" his sister shrieked over his words, appearing discombobulated. "What is wrong with you? We only got our divorce cleared _yesterday_!"

"I waited until you were separated, if you'll notice. I've been in love with him for a lot longer than that though!" Shinobu shot back, trying to keep a cooler head than Risako, but utterly failing in the endeavor. Both siblings had a similarly strong temper when provoked, and given that it was a key subject, provoked was an understatement.

The atmosphere became thick rather quickly after Shinobu's outburst. He squirmed in his chair uncomfortably; sensing the same type of emotions running rampant within the room as he had felt when he'd left Miyagi. How that man and his family had so much in common about this matter went completely over his head. In no way had the man he adored ever once agreed with Risako or his parents on anything, but they both agreed that his idea of love was completely wrong.

"That isn't going to mean anything," his sister stated darkly. "Do you even know why I felt I had to go to someone else in the first place? I wasn't loved. He was never going to feel that way toward me, or you, or anyone else. He's not capable of it, that's just the kind of person he is. I don't think he's ever allowed himself those sort of feelings so you sure as hell aren't going to convince him now with your whining and moaning. He may seem like a friendly guy but he will never love anyone."

" _I_ love Miyagi... that's not going to change; ever. And we are supposed to be together, so he will fall in love with me back. He didn't love you because you weren't right for him, and you only wanted what his family owned because when I was born you were no longer the inheritant here!"

"You wouldn't know love if it hit you in the face, Shinobu," Risako spit, plucking her napkin off her lap and tossing it on the ground. "Best of luck with your... fiancé. I'm sure you'll be perfectly miserable together! Like we were!"

"Well, I certainly know enough not to cheat on someone I'm married to, unlike some people!"

Before he had a chance to even formulate another thought he felt a sharp slap to his face. Shinobu looked over at his mother and the offending hand with shock in his eyes. It would have been easier to swallow had the slap come from his sister, but his mother had never once raised her hand to him. A tear slipped from his left eye as he put his hand to his smarting cheek.

Without another word he stood up and left the table.

In his head, he had nowhere to go. His instinct before would have been to head over to Miyagi's, but after the prior events he didn't feel comfortable heading there. Since his family weren't even bothering to call after him he knew that the only place he'd be safe when they calmed down was Isaka's. His parents hated the man with a vengeance, so they would stay away from him and his family, and Shinobu if he was staying there. Isaka was what Shinobu would consider a friend, so he knew he would take him in.

What Shinobu wasn't quite sure of though, was if this situation could be resolved. He would never give up on someone who meant so much to him, and being that his parents were just as strongly against it as he was for it, this might lead to irreconcilable differences. If that happened, what could Shinobu do? The notion scared him to contemplate, and he knew that he needed to get away. He walked toward his bedroom to pack a few things and go.

The question burned in his mind: how much would he be willing to lose in order to gain love?

**.**

**.**

**END CHAPTER.**


	8. Crying At Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is broken up into three sections. I think a lot of chapters from here on out might be that way, with the occasional "full" chapter devoted to one character/pairing.

**(** June 2nd, 2012 **)**

* * *

 

Akihiko was sitting alone in the throne room, a rare occurrence, when his silent contemplation was broken by a visitor.

One moment he was considering the dust mites floating in mid-air, bored out of his mind, the next he looked up at hearing the creak of the door that heralded the newcomer. The prince raised his rare-hued eyes to the entrance of the room to see a familiar face growing closer with each step. It was almost as if he had willed him there, because after all, lately, the youth had been very much on his mind.

"Misaki?" he questioned aloud; Akihiko was surprised to see the boy here, especially on his own. "What brings you here?"

"Oji-sama... I have this problem, and honestly I don't know what to do. I feel like there's no one else I can ask, no one to turn to. I... wondered if you might listen to me, maybe. I know you are probably busy but..." Misaki trained his eyes down at the marbled floor, looking despondent. The youth's shoulders fixed into a slump as if to further showcase his melancholy. Akihiko surveyed him with concern.

"Are you all right, Misaki? Wouldn't it be better to talk to _that person_ instead of me?" the prince put forward, even though he would hardly wish Haruhiko on his worst enemy.

"But... it's about... him, Akihiko-sama. I'm scared to say."

Misaki bit down on his full, bottom lip, leaving a delicious red mark to mar the rosy pink of the flesh. What the author wouldn't give to be giving him more of those marks, all over his lithe young body. The image was tempting to his senses. He wondered if Misaki was any good with his mouth, because that too, could be put to good use for both their pleasures.

"You can tell me, sweet Misaki, don't be afraid. Here, why don't you come sit on my lap and whisper it into my ear? Would that make it better?"

"Yes!" the brunette piped up, an expression of relief dawning on his cute, pointed face.

Akihiko's head was immediately flooded with instances in which that word would loudly and repeatedly be issued from that sexy mouth. He waited as Misaki carefully approached the throne, hesitating only for a moment before clambering onto his lap. He settled in calmly, sweet thighs straddling the older's legs and then leaned his head near the prince's ear to voice his concerns.

"It's just... he doesn't... satisfy me, your highness. I... I don't know if I want to marry a man who can't do that. He doesn't even come to my bed very often, so what am I supposed to do?" Misaki extolled miserably, his big green eyes quivering with emotion.

"Oh Misaki, I'd tend your garden every day and night," Akihiko purred, fixing the boy with a meaningful stare.

"Really, Akihiko-sama?" Misaki's chest heaved as he said the words, so breathy, peering up at the royal through long black lashes. A faint hue of coral blush stained his cheeks, but his gaze was curious, and Akihiko could tell the offer titillated him.

"Absolutely, pet. In fact, just having you here with me has already stirred me so much." He took one finger, swiping it over the boy's lip playfully, and then touching their foreheads together, hot breath fanning out against creamy skin. "You're irresistible, Misaki, I don't know how he ever keeps his hands _off_ you. I wouldn't be able to hold back, if you were mine. I'd lock you up and throw away the key, so that you'd never leave me."

"Oh Akihiko-sama!" Misaki keened woefully, bearing back in his spot, and creating a little more distance between them. "I... I also wanted to come to today because... well because... I haven't been able to stop thinking about you! I'm sorry if that's strange, but it's true, your highness! I have even dreamed of you some nights!"

The prince studied him curiously, violet eyes widened at the sudden statement. He did not expect to hear that out of the boy, as distraught as he was. A hot pink blush had spread over the younger's face, making him appear as a very beautiful fruit, ripe for the picking. Akihiko could feel his trembling as he shifted on his lap, waiting for some kind of response. Chocolate brown locks framed his face, completing the picture that was making the royal's desire well up swiftly within him.

"And what have you dreamed of, Mi-chan? Please tell me everything."

"Well, the last one I remember was you and me, and we were at the amusement park. You took me on all of the rides, and even won me a bear at one of the games. I remember being really happy, because we were having such a good time together. After that we went on a walk in the capitol gardens, and lay down on the grass and talked for a long time."

Akihiko's eyes were partially glazed over. All right, so it wasn't the erotic account he had been expecting, but Misaki was unbearably cute as he recited his dream. The boy was squirming on his lap with happiness as he talked about it, and the adorable behavior was titillating the prince in its own way.

"Then later, you um, lay on top of me a little bit, and t-touched me..."

"Mmm," the prince hummed, pecking at the boy's neck with his lips, "and where did I do that? Did you enjoy it?"

"Yes. You, um, put your hand down the front and touched there a lot, and I-I got your fingers wet."

"That's good, Mi-chan, I'm starting to really like this dream of yours. Did anything else happen that you remember?"

Misaki stared at him, lips trembling. He opened his mouth, and subsequently jumped into the request he had probably been working up to this whole time, "... _Oji-sama_... please make love to me. Please, make my body come alive!"

Akihiko gazed at the younger indulgently, eyes half-lidded with sensuality.

"Don't you worry, Misaki, I'll surely satisfy you."

"I know his highness will. I already ache when you're not even inside of me yet, and I feel like my heart is going to beat right out of my body!" Misaki confessed, pushing his torso closer to the prince's broad, strong chest, shifting over his groin skillfully with the relocation. The boy clung to Akihiko, face turned upward in expectation, lashes from closed eyes fanning out in black little waves, sweet pink lips poised and desirous of being touched.

Akihiko claimed them, tilting his head down to capture that coquettish mouth with flourish, lips meeting for the first time. Misaki tasted better than he had anticipated, and his lips parted almost immediately to allow Akihiko access to his warm cavern.

After a few heated lingual forays, the prince began to explore his submissive's canvas, nails scraping lightly against the boy's soft chest until he reached a pert bud awaiting his passion, at which point he felt compelled to give in.

Pinching the raised flesh between thumb and forefinger, he twisted none too gently, eliciting a sharp cry out of Misaki's quivering throat. Akihiko chuckled, rubbing the little nub between the same fingers, then leaning in to lick the boy's neck with broad tongue, leaving skin behind for the cool air to make tingle and burn for further attention.

"Oh, oji-sama, ahhhahahh," Misaki cried out. Akihiko had since added to the youth's torment, dipping his free hand down the back of Misaki's trousers and prodding at his entrance with one persistent digit. " _Please_ , touch me on the inside!"

"Shh, there's a good boy." Akihiko pistoned a finger inside the brunette's back door, searching for his tortured gland to give him a little relief. The younger bounced against the penetration, but his voice calmed, arms coming up to snuggle around the prince's neck, holding him close. Misaki's face buried itself in the royal's silvery hair, inhaling deeply and keeping his little whispered outbursts close to the prince's ear.

"Mi-chan, if you keep tempting me like this, I'm going to have to fuck you."

"Akihiko-sama, oh, it feels so... mmm!"

"Better than _him_?"

"N-No comparison," Misaki moaned, accommodating a second digit easily into his tight passage. He was taking on the ministrations amiably, so eager in action and voice that it could not help but to incite a further desire to please him. Akihiko was hard pressed to know what to do next - there were so many beautiful situations he could envision them in, but he had one wanton young man already on his lap and begging for release. Those would have to wait for the next time, of which the prince was sure there would be many.

"Misaki, how do you want it? You're going to have to tell me or I can't help you."

"What?" the younger questioned cutely, raising his head from where it had been nestled, so that emerald stare met violet. "What do you mean, my prince?"

Akihiko leaned forward, licking at the boy's bottom lip teasingly. Misaki's mouth parted immediately, well conditioned to accept his tongue, but he did not pursue it further. Instead he moved away to explain, since the sweet brunette genuinely seemed unsure of his request. How ever could he resist such a precociously discombobulated face as that, also flushed with pleasure at his moves to arouse the other? The answer was he could not. He felt compelled to answer.

"Do you prefer what we are doing now or... would you like more than that, Misaki? Tell me."

"Oh Akihiko-sama, can I?"

"Can you what, pet?"

"Umm..." The boy tilted his head down, blush deepening to a form of magenta as he considered his wording.

"Can I feel you inside? All of you?"

"You may, if you can say that to me properly," Akihiko purred, overcome with the anticipation of hearing more lewd phrases spring from that adorable mouth.

He knew what was coming, could sense it with every fiber of his being, and his excitement was boiling over. The younger was so beautiful and sweet that he wanted him like he had never wanted anyone else before. Misaki had shown him such consideration that it was only natural that he had fallen for the teen. Misaki was different from most people in that way - he had a pure essence that was enticingly rare.

"P-Please," he stammered, longingly staring up at the prince with verdant eyes. "I want..."

"Misaki," Akihiko whispered, sucking the boy's earlobe into his mouth and then biting down. A small cry emitted from the youth at the rough touch, and his fist curled tighter around the royal's shoulder, needing something to hold onto. "I know exactly what you need, so I'll help. Just say, 'Let me ride on your big cock' and I'll do it. I know how much you want to try it, so just say the words and I will take you like you deserve to be taken."

"Let me... ride on your big cock," Misaki uttered after an uncomfortable silence.

Akihiko acknowledged his resolve, and decided to stop playing with the boy so much and give him what he so obviously craved after.

"Your wish is my command, sweet Misaki."

The next moments were a flurry of undoing buttons and zippers, which somehow wound up in the younger completely divested of any stitch of clothing, and for the prince, merely the essentials. They still straddled the royal's throne, although that was not so much a cause for concern as it was an additional aphrodisiac. Akihiko had fantasized about such a situation before, and with the eager teen at his disposal, he intended to fulfill the temptation grandly.

Currently the boy was gasping for air, carefully rotating his hips and sliding Akihiko's cock inside, muscles clamping down around the stiff organ as he twitched with excitement. His arms were thrown around the older man's neck, clinging onto him for dear life as they joined.

Akihiko was smirking, burying his nose into Misaki's damp brown hair, smelling the younger's soft and comforting scent. Sinking into Misaki's snug canal convicted Akihiko, hearing the noises of pleasure spring from the other's throat only confirmed this for the prince. Misaki began to rock down against him, sending jolts of electricity flowing freely through his body.

The boy whimpered, arching his back erotically as he fell and rose, warm, sweat-soaked body playing the prince like a fiddle. All of Misaki's contortions were a sight to behold, but Akihiko's eyes fixed themselves on the younger's precious stare. The watering viridian irises that alternately burned into his own, and then cast away, when Misaki lost the courage to hold the gaze. They were filled with life, brimming with tears of unsung pleasure as the boy was stretched out by their intense rhythm.

"P-please touch me, Akihiko-sama... it aches!" Misaki besought him, gingerly holding the prince's free hand in his own and guiding it to his fevered length. Akihiko smiled dotingly at the request, enchanted by how responsive the teen had become, how comfortable he felt asking Akihiko to be taken care of, when Akihiko wanted nothing more than to do that for the beautiful ingenue resting in his arms. To win Misaki's heart he would give the younger man the moon on a string if he asked for it. For now though, humble beginnings did suffice.

He wrapped his long fingers around Misaki's cute cock, giving it a swift pump that initiated a chill ripping up the other's spine. Misaki subsequently called out, ass muscles tensing deliciously as the prince began to stroke his arousal in earnest.

"Feel good... Mi-saki?" Akihiko queried silkily, bumping his member against a tender space whose brush consumed the younger with ecstasy. The prince could see the tell tale clues already layed out on the youth's face. As _that person_ had clearly never attended properly to Misaki's desires, it wasn't surprising that the boy was all ready to let go, not being accustomed to such overwhelming sensations.

"Ung," was the distracted response the royal received, Misaki bouncing intently on his staff, seeking out that which would finally end his luxurious torment. Akihiko removed his hand, instead cupping the brunette's hip with it and using it to anchor the boy as he thrust slyly, slamming the angry head of his cock into the boy's sweet spot several times in rapid succession.

Misaki moaned high, the strains forcing out of his throat harshly, and began to almost thrash against the prince. Akihiko rammed skyward, pushing the boy over into bliss. His cum splattered against the elder's toned stomach, and he keened in Akihiko's ear, making the royal smile smugly, convinced of his prowess. His own orgasm was so close he could taste it in the air, rutting up against the younger's supple ass, his blood heated to a boiling point.

**. . . . .**

Akihiko blinked his eyes open mechanically, cursing the infernal sting his bleariness wrought on him. The morning sun poured in through a thin sliver in his curtains, and the royal fumed as he figured that one of his servants had probably been in the room and disturbed the fabric unwittingly in their routine. Fortunate for them, they seemed to be scarce at the moment, and therefore Akihiko did not know the identity of the person who he should reprimand for such a misstep. If there was one thing that got his choler up, it was being woken before noon, particularly to that bright of light, and _especially_ when he had been having such a fascinating dream.

He rolled onto his back, peeling away his comforter and rejoicing in the small comfort that he never wore those incomprehensible inventions called pajamas, as they would have proved rather restrictive this hour.

His cock seemed to have a mind of its own, curving proudly up in the aftermath of the erotic imaginings of his sleep. To tell the truth, the prince was surprised that he had not already finished, as much as the vision had pleased him. The upside of this however was that he was now fully on his own power, and while dealing with it, he could prolong those imaginations.

If even a week ago you would have asked Akihiko what his feelings toward the younger man were, you would have received an unsatisfactory answer to your query. The feelings that had made him conceive of such a dream were new and tender, so it was only natural that they hit him full force. Whereas his steadfast love for Misaki's sibling had staled with the ebb and flow of time, and the lack of fodder or hope to put toward it, Akihiko's longing for the boy had grown like a wildfire. This attraction; he could feel strength in it like the first had never had. Misaki was special.

That first night, when his world had come crashing down, Misaki had been the only one who had comforted him. Tears had fallen from those beautiful eyes in honor of the prince's sadness; the boy had embraced him soundly and tried his hardest to soothe Akihiko in his time of need. He had never asked for any sympathy, yet it was given to him without reserve. The younger man was unlike nothing he'd ever come across.

And Misaki was supposed to be marrying his brother.

Akihiko sighed regretfully, thinking now that he had been a fool to blindly allow that to happen. He had not known Misaki at the time he had given the dispensation, but he did know _that_ _person_ and Haruhiko was not a good match for anyone in the prince's opinion, let alone a sensitive soul like Misaki. Haruhiko was a cold individual, and he doubted very much that Misaki was happy living with him. More likely, the boy had been impressed upon to agree to the marriage by the differences in their class, or had been innocent and naive enough to think that the attentions shown him were loving and genuine.

It would be callous to just leave the boy to that fate, and apart from that, Akihiko's heart had begun to beat for the younger already. Ever since that night the feeling had slowly been growing within him, becoming stronger the more he gave it credence. He wanted to taste Misaki on his tongue, to truly run his fingers over the teen's smooth skin, to hear his cries of pleasure, and to share his days only with him. Something about Misaki had charmed him to the point where he couldn't fathom a future wherein he wasn't the boy's lover.

Images of that future set the prince to notice the still persistent erection jutting against his lower belly. His member throbbed at the thought of being with Misaki in reality, despite the sweetness of his dreams. Feeling the warmth of that enticing body writhing beneath him every night would be inspiration he could glean nowhere else. To have those luminous green eyes staring at him with adoration instead of at _that person_ jump-started him even further. Akihiko glanced down his frame, wondering just what to do about it - he had rarely indulged himself with touch in the past, primarily because he had never been that sort of person to enjoy being handled.

It might seem a contradiction to the prince's lustful thoughts, but Akihiko enjoyed his personal space at all other times, and was selective to the point of being exclusionary over who he would allow to get close to him. Something about having another human invading, laying their hands on him... it was more likely to garner a chill down the royal's spine rather than a flicker of joy that most might have felt. Though he had had many similar dreams about Takahiro over the years, for the most part he tried to ignore his urges, or, by luck, he had woken up to find that it was already through and his body had self-gratified without physical intervention.

Misaki's beautiful body flooded his mind however, and he did not think this was one of the times where he would be able to shelve his arousal. He found that he didn't really want to, either.

He had not yet embraced the boy in that intimate manner, and despite everything, he knew that one day he would. He would win the younger's heart and one of these approaching nights they would join as a single flesh, never to part in soul. It didn't matter that Misaki was engaged; that relationship, in his eyes, was unthinkable, and he would not give up for such an obstacle. Misaki had shown him compassion, and Akihiko didn't take that lightly - though he would hardly admit it to himself, having a taste of that feeling, so pure and freely given was the reason for his resolve. He wanted Misaki to stay with him, for all their years.

Sighing, he set his mind to remedying the insistent throbbing of down below.

He took himself in hand, sliding his fist slowly down his cock from root to tip. In his mind's eye he saw Misaki's ecstatic face as the lithe young man rode him, mouth gaping so that he might be able to breathe properly during the exertion, a hot blush burning in his cheeks. Repeating the motion gave him a small semblance of pleasure, the embers of ecstasy just barely fanning into a flame. Akihiko frowned.

The prince redoubled his efforts, stroking his length a bit faster than before. A shiver coursed through his system, as it _did_ seem to work better that way. His fist pulled down to his tip and then cautiously swiveled over the crown of his cock, making his abdomen quiver with anticipation. Akihiko felt his mouth begin dry, and heat seep into his forehead and face, not quite a blush but enough to make him feel feverish in comparison to the rest of his body.

His rich groans permeated the air of his bedroom when he found a sweet spot, rubbing his thumb into the slit of his member and spreading around the pre-fluid burgeoning there. He tested the boy's name, whispering it huskily as he cupped the head and stroked it rough, rolling the stiffened flesh through his fist and pulling. His hips pistoned up into the firm grip and he could almost imagine it again, piercing Misaki's sweet depths and holding the younger tight as their passion ensued.

"Misaki," Akihiko recited like a chant, eyes fluttering between open and closed as electricity crackled through his lower half.

He reached down, cupping and rolling his sac in the palm of his hand, feeling the fleshy weights tightening in his hand even as the knot in his belly coiled to the point of no return. With his other hand he continued to pump his cock, re-envisioning the screams of ecstasy Misaki had cried in his dream and the way he had writhed, tight ass clamping down even more on him when orgasm hit. The boy's incredible heat surrounded him, and for a moment Akihiko had almost thought he heard the boy whisper the words, shy and fleeting, "I love you, Akihiko-sama."

His heart sped up at imagining the phrase, now desiring nothing more than to hear it in waking life

"Misaki," he cried a final time before he spilled, " _I love you_."

 

* * *

 **. . . Egoist . . .  
** (three months have passed for them)

* * *

 

The writing was improving step by step, and the voice grew stronger with each paragraph, but there was still something missing from the essay. As he read it through again, Hiroki tried to pinpoint exactly what that was, but it escaped his knowledge every time. It was actually starting to irk him, given that it was so rare that he couldn't get to the bottom or a problem like this. Sure, he could mark down that the beginning needed clean-up, but he knew that wasn't the only thing raising a concern so he couldn't leave it. He was like a dog with a bone.

"What would you like to drink with dinner, Hiro-san?" An increasingly familiar tone rung in the academic's ear, and he didn't dare look up from the paper, choosing to keep his gaze planted firmly on the lines when he gave his answer.

"Water will be fine," he offered evenly, holding his pen aloft and preparing for the next round of re-reading.

The next minute or so, the kitchen was all but silent except for the soft noises of Nowaki moving around the room getting the rest of the things ready. Hiroki knew that if he had chanced a glance, the giant would be wearing that same calm smile that he always seemed to host on his face, but there would be a spring in the man's step.

Ever since the first time they had spent an evening together, Nowaki had been petitioning to cook for Hiroki. Finally they had both had time to sit down to a meal, and so Hiroki had relented. To be honest he had no idea what value Nowaki placed on doing it; it just seemed like such a small thing that Hiroki wasn't sure how it could make the younger happy.

Alas, since it didn't do any harm, he had allowed the charade to move forward.

What surprised Hiroki the most after taking the first and subsequent bites was that the food wasn't half bad. No, in fact, it was good; really good. He almost stopped reading the current paper that was occupying his mind after the third or so bite because the taste had startled him.

Hiroki gazed at Nowaki quickly to note the man was staring intently at him, which made him blush and look away quickly. It was bad enough to have someone cook for him and he like it as much as he liked his mother's, but another to have said person staring at him while he ate.

Hiroki went back to grading his paper and he vaguely heard the other man start on his dinner as well. At least he needn't snap at the poor sap for interrupting his thought process.

Truth be told though, Nowaki was just charmed that his words the first time they met might have spurred the elder into following his dream. These past few months, Hiro-san had been putting everything he had into trying to get into the educational arena, and he was starting to succeed, as the younger knew that he would. The man had a few regular classes that he taught now, and his reviews via his peers were all excellent.

The meal continued on silently as Hiroki was too busy grading to worry about what Nowaki was up to. He was having a hard time figuring out how such a smart student could have written such an impeccable paper but not given the narration a lick of sense. After re-reading the same paragraph for the fourth time he stood up sharply and left the table with the paper in hand, stalked to the sofa, and went looking through a different paper for a spell to take his mind off the drivel he had just tried to read.

He wasn't sure how much time had passed by the time Nowaki entered back into the picture. Three new papers had been graded and Hiroki was back to struggling through the original paper. The task was making him tired and he only wished it could be over.

Hiroki was vaguely aware of Nowaki sitting beside him and delving into reading the paper with his own blurry eyes. "I don't see how someone with such talent can write this slop," he mumbled as Nowaki turned toward him. "He can talk the talk, but it doesn't seem he even remotely understood what he was reading. This essay is like listening to a sales-person try and sell a piece of crap; using flowery words that mean jack in the long run."

Nowaki chuckled at Hiroki's annoyance. The man was just too cute for words at times, especially when it came to literature. He'd learned, over the course of their short time together, that Hiroki had two mind-sets. One, literature. Two, everything else.

"I understand what you are saying here, Hiro-san," Nowaki said, pointing to a particularly drab bit of writing. "I don't really understand the premise, but this seems to be restating the same thing over and over again."

Hiroki could feel his heartbeat speed up as he felt the other man's breath on his shoulder. That and the fact that Nowaki had picked up on something like that made him feel... different. He couldn't put his finger on it.

"This is a bright student, just someone who doesn't seem to grasp the context of the written word," Hiroki said as he put the paper down and rubbed his temples for a time.

"Perhaps the writer did understand the text, but couldn't get it written down the way he wanted to. I am sure that happens more often than not. Maybe you should speak to him face-to-face instead of have him write something, that might help. After all, literature is about the reading, not the writing, and even some of the most intelligent minds in the world couldn't figure out how to write what they wanted to say."

Those words left a definite dent in the professor's thought process. Nowaki had just hit the nail on the head and this impressed him to no end. With each passing day the younger man had been causing him to change, little by little. He didn't quite understand the change completely, but he wasn't opposed to it in any way.

Without another word he went back to reading over the paper. Nowaki had known him long enough to understand that at times he would just leave a conversation and go into his own little world. He didn't need to explain anymore.

The more he perused the text, the more he came to the conclusion that Nowaki was right. He made a mental note to have a sit-down with the student, because, after all, he had seen in previous sessions that the youth was intelligent, and so he didn't mind giving a person like that a little extra counsel. The idiots that came to his office the night before an exam after not paying attention in a single lecture, however, those types he booted out without a second thought.

Ebbing at the edges of Hiroki's consciousness were soft sounds, and, out of nowhere, there was a slump next to him, and in two places at once, Hiroki felt the weight of the other man brushing against him. Nowaki's head ended up perched against his shoulder, completely lost in the slumber he had seemingly fallen into, and the younger's hand haphazardly landed on his leg.

The hand that had landed on the outside of his thigh seemed to feel heavier with each awkward second that passed, the warmth shooting right through to Hiroki's own skin so that he could not fail to notice it. And then there was the prevailing problem, that tousled dark head that was using his shoulder as roosting place without permission. What in the hell was he going to do about that?

The younger's breathing was slow and rhythmic, chest rising and falling with spectacular strength as the man dreamed and slept. The strains of each breath lingered in Hiroki's ear and even began to lull him a little, his eyes becoming unfocused behind the lenses of his reading glasses.

His senses clashed with his mind yet again. It was so tempting to lean back in the sofa, to sink into the cushions and fall into oblivion as well. The day had been cold for the throes of summer, and the low temperature seemed to zap his energy more effectively than other sources did. Nowaki's body was like an overlarge furnace next to his on the couch, and, unwillingly, the thought crossed his mind that it would probably be very comfortable to sleep next to such an encompassing warmth. At the same time he couldn't just do that, now could he? Why was he even giving it proper consideration?

Hiroki didn't have it in him to wake the other up, even if the situation was a bit hairy for him personally, what with the touchy feely nature of it. From what he had learned during their collection of time spent in one another's company, Nowaki worked very hard for his age, and that was bound to leave him tired at the end of the day. Hiroki simply thought that he shouldn't interrupt him, given the effects that even small disturbances in a person's sleep cycle had on their performance. It was a completely logical decision with nothing else driving it. So what if he was being used as a pillow? He would have kicked some tail if it had been on purpose, but being that it was an unconscious movement on Nowaki's part, then he supposed he could overlook it this time.

Nowaki's breathing was actually acting as a stress reducer. The soft hum of the breath reverberating from within the man's chest had all but hypnotized Hiroki while he was working to the point where he placed the paper onto the table and looked at the other man. Nowaki was definitely a beautiful person; both inside and out. He brought out the best in Hiroki, even when he tried to hide away. That was an accomplishment worthy of Guinness.

Absentmindedly he started to run his fingers over the other's hair, not actually touching it, but a centimeter or so away from the blades of black that stuck up like a dark forest. He could feel the energy radiating from those tips and he wondered if that same energy radiated from all over the man. The feeling was comfortable and Hiroki was perfectly content to watch the other man sleep and feel needed as he was; sometimes a pillow is more than a pillow.

After a few more moments of being under the other man's spell, Hiroki woke up and started to work on his grading again. The feel of the other man on him caused him to focus and he was able to get through the remaining papers with no problem. Once the last paper was graded he started to feel himself doze off, but then he heard movement.

Hiroki turned his head at the rustling, and he felt a faint shift against him, Nowaki's head moving in the process of him waking up. The younger's eyes blinked open, revealing sleep-hazy cerulean eyes. Hiroki must have been spacing out, because for a moment he couldn't tear his gaze away. Nowaki's face was smooth and curiously blank, completely at peace. For some reason the aesthetic appealed to him, and thus he thought nothing of looking.

His strange actions drew the younger man's attention, because not too much later, Nowaki tilted his head, meeting his stare. His cheek still rested against the point of Hiroki's shoulder, and their faces were uncomfortably close for the elder's liking. He felt heat creep into his face, and he could come up with nothing in the way of speech to articulate his thoughts.

"How long have I been asleep?"

"A... a while." Hiroki's eyes narrowed, just now remembering that the other had pretty much camped out on him for the duration of that nap.

"I'm sorry, Hiro-san." Nowaki sat up on the couch, carefully putting a measure of space between them. "I was tired, but I didn't mean to sleep on you like that. You could have woken me up if you wanted to."

"It's not like you were bothering me," Hiroki said gruffly, picking up an already corrected paper and pretending to go over it again.

Nowaki caught the red marks all over the paper and knew instantly that the other man was trying to change the direction of the conversation. So he decided he could change the topic as well. A flash of the dream he'd had while snuggled up to Hiroki came into his mind and he recalled that evening a while back where the other was gloomy. It made his heart bleed to think about, but it was something he couldn't get off his chest.

"Hiro-san, on that night we first met, why were you sad?" Nowaki asked casually as he stretched, revealing his bare midriff to the other man.

Hiroki caught the sight of Nowaki's navel out of the corner of his eye and blushed slightly. Then he thought about the question and thought back to the answer. The night they'd met was the night he'd been turned down by Akihiko. Not really something he wanted to get into. Also not something that was going to go away unless he answered or pretended to forget. If he feigned ignorance, it would probably lead to more questions.

When Hiroki didn't immediately answer, Nowaki tried a different strategy.

"I am glad you are at least happy now, even if you were sad and a little lost back then," he said with a nod. "I never like it when someone I care about is sad."

Hiroki didn't like this line of conversation.

He colored, an uncomfortable atmosphere beginning to press in on him. "Just _what_ are you asking, Nowaki?"

"Exactly what I said, Hiro-san. You seem to be happier these days, as I've even seen you smile, but back then you were very sad, weren't you? I wonder if you will tell me about that, but you don't have to if it offends you. I am merely curious, being as I was there that night, and also... as your friend." Nowaki trailed off his statement vaguely, almost as if the end word didn't quite fit the meaning he hoped to impart. His lips flattened out into a nondescript line on his face, but he circled back to meet the brunette's gaze, expectantly.

It was like so many times in their brief acquaintance, Hiroki thought. Nowaki constantly went about things in a manner that was apologetic, unimposing, but there was that also always that undercurrent of genuine hope. Nowaki would never command anything out of someone, but one could see that he wished for answers to the things he asked, yeses to the quiet requests he made. That behavior was fresh to the academic's lexicon; never had he met a person so contrary who did not further strike him as obnoxious.

Still, he didn't want to talk about Akihiko with anyone, let alone Nowaki, so he pretended to think more about the day at hand before answering.

"I don't really remember that night too well, Nowaki. I guess I was sad, but I can't recall why. Many things contribute to my attitude on most days, so I am sure it was a plethora of happenings. If I remember then we can talk about it later."

There was a finality in the way he spoke and Nowaki understood immediately. But, he was anything if not patient. Nowaki would wait until hell froze over just to learn any new bit of information about Hiro-san, and he fully intended to wait this one out too. While it may have been uncomfortable for his senior, he wasn't about to let it just go. He'd let the man open up on his own time.

 

* * *

  **. . . Isaka . . .**

(June 18th, 2012)

* * *

 

Work was both a god-send and hell on earth. Hell because it took him away from spending time with his boys; all three of them. A god-send because it helped to clue him on to whatever seemed to be going on in the world. Isaka could learn more about the country at work than he could via any other medium. So work also happened to be a curse, especially when the shit was about to hit the fan, so to speak.

After speaking to a few A.W.O.L. authors' editors, and crunching down on some insubordinate clerks, he'd decided it was time to make the rounds and see what news he could uncover just by showing his lovely face to the cogs that made his publishing house run. He was definitely the face of the clock that was Marukawa, but all of the others in the building were in charge of making him show the right time.

Apparently someone was pregnant, though it was a female employee and her wife. Speculation was that the one cheated on the other, ended up with child, and was trying to pass it off as a miracle of god. Fat lot of good that was going to do.

Mino, in the shojo manga department, had received a summons from his wife's father. Yurie was a definite looker and the next in line of a huge conglomerate, so if Mino was being summoned it was definitely for something big. Isaka would need to keep his eyes open and his ears in tune with the rest of that story. Given the type of car and the slightly suspicious characters who had picked the man up, Isaka did have to wonder if they weren't a special type of "family."

Then, after a quick pit-stop at the bathroom, Isaka ran into the most interesting news of the day, for better or for worse. Akikawa Yayoi, in other words, the Prince under a pen name, had just completed another book... and it was causing quite a stir amongst his crew. The break room was rife with chatter as a whole clutch of editors talked the novel up, thankfully none the wiser about the author's identity. If ever it got out that the Crown Prince wrote such smut, then Isaka couldn't be responsible for what would happen. King Fuyuhiko certainly wouldn't find it as amusing as he did.

After listening to a few workers banter about the novel, Isaka decided he wanted to see it, immediately.

"Tell me more," he smirked as he put his arms around the two editors who were ogling over the book.

They were slightly taken aback by the familiar - and slightly uncomfortable - behavior, but continued with the conversation.

"I just read through it sir, and I was told that she wrote it within less than a week...though that could be exaggerated," the man answered. "It's going to be a hit, I can tell. The characters are so vivid, and real."

"Yeah, I heard it was a real rush job on Sensei's part. Aikawa about had kittens, she finished it so easily. Without complaint, either."

"Really? Well, lemme see a copy of this masterpiece. Yayoi is one of our more persnickety authors, so I'd love to see what subject matter she felt so compelled to write about," Isaka made plain, clenching his hand in a pose that indicated he was ready to receive.

Indeed, he was genuinely curious, being that there had been several occasions in recent memory where he had had to march into the young royal's apartments to pry manuscripts out of the author's unwilling grasp. More than that, the executive was what one could call playful, and perused BL novels for reasons outside of business from time to time. It helped feed his imagination so that when he was able to mess around with his husband of nearly nine years, everything was kept fresh and exciting. Asahina may have that serious face, but he was open to most things in the bedroom. Or in that other bedroom, formally called Isaka's office, where the real work was done occasionally.

A few minutes later, Isaka, book in hand and a toothy smile on his face, sauntered away from the other two and into his office. He shut the door, walked to his desk, put his feet up on the surface, and started to pick the book apart.

It didn't take him long to learn the names of the characters and it started to weigh on his mind. The prince could have just come up with a major coincidence, so Isaka kept reading, and reading, and reading. With each passing page his interest, while piqued, started to cause his nerves to run a little cold. The pictures in the book were definitely not an unknown presence. The name was the same, even down to the surname...and, obviously, the other character in the book was the prince himself.

Isaka didn't get but halfway though the book before looking up and blinking his eyes. Akihiko had actually written a porn novel about himself and his brother's fiancé. This didn't bode well. Not only had Misaki been used, but had all but been taken over by the prince and molded into some kind of sex puppet. If one to pick any line at random, the slanted characterization was made evident.

' _Misaki stared at him, lips trembling. He opened his mouth, and subsequently jumped into the request he had probably been working up to this whole time, "... _Oji-sama_... please make love to me. Please, make my body come alive!"_ '

Ryuuichirou dropped the offending book onto his desk, and tried to think of what to do in this situation.

He remembered a few years back when he had first met Misaki, when Haruhiko had introduced the boy to him as his partner. At the time he had happened to ask the boy if Haruhiko had dipped his wick into him just yet, and Misaki about had a coronary at the question - which, at the time, had been a "no." Misaki hadn't changed much over time as far as being shy, especially when teased. Knowing such things, Isaka couldn't reconcile the facts with the vision of the younger he was being presented with in the story. They were nothing alike in persona.

Still, so many details were eerily true to life, and, given the prince's inclinations in earlier novels to use real life people as inspiration, the executive had to conclude that this novel was something worth worrying about, and the information worth relaying to his friend so that the man was at least aware of it.

Isaka didn't know what to make of what he'd just read and come up with in the recesses of his mind. To him, he'd been put in a situation that wasn't going to end well in any way. On one hand he was the chief of the company, the man in charge. The book was brilliant and would make a lot of money, so not putting it out would hurt quite a few people. Contrariwise, the book was about his friend's future husband, more than likely in a position that he wasn't aware he'd been put in. Not only that, if the prince was fantasizing in that manner it wouldn't take long for the easily swayed youth to succumb to whatever temptation Akihiko could offer.

Either side had a moral in the dilemma, so he did what he thought was best. He put the book down, reached for the phone, and dialed Haruhiko.

After three rings the man in question answered the phone.

"Hello, Ryuuichirou?" Came the reply from the other side.

"Haruhiko, old friend, I haven't had a chance to speak to you in a while and wanted to catch up," Isaka lied through his teeth; they'd just spoken that morning when Haruhiko had called to ask where he and Asahina had purchased wedding flowers from all those years ago.

"False, but nonetheless entertaining. To what do I owe this pleasure?" Haruhiko asked.

Isaka could just about feel the way the man was going to take this news, so he came out with it not adding any sugar lest he forget his meaning.

"I just read through part of your brother's new novel, and I have to say, there are characters in here who resemble some people I know," Isaka deadpanned.

"Oh, and who might they be? I am sure my brother didn't use me for his inspiration as he doesn't seem to care much about my life." The sad truth of that statement was the truth that rang clearly. Akihiko didn't have much to do with his brother and probably never would.

"You know the types of novels I am referring to, right?"

Isaka hoped he'd made clear the type of novel without having to come right out and say it. This way wasn't less painful by any stretch of the imagination, but it was easier for him to stomach.

"Those trashy novels he puts out, I am sure."

"Correct, only this time, he used your fiancé as one of the characters."

This comment was answered by dead silence, not even a breath could be heard. Isaka didn't realize he'd been holding his until Haruhiko spoke up again.

"In what way?"

"Let's put it this way," Isaka stated calmly. "He and the prince were swapping bodily fluids in half a dozen locations, more than a dozen times, while your future husband made comments about how his 'fiancé' would never hold a sexual candle to the prince when it came to sex, love, and the size of the reproductive organ."

Stating it out loud almost made Isaka vomit in his mouth. Why in the hell did the prince have to use his friend's fiancé? There were dozens, no more than dozens, of other available young men out there for the prince to snatch with his tentacles. He knew that had the unfortunate other character been his husband Kaoru, he would have wreaked hell on the royal for even considering using the man so dear to him in such a way. Isaka was playful, but he loathed sharing, and would never budge from that opinion.

After another, longer, bout of silence Isaka could hear Haruhiko start to speak again.

"I am glad you brought this to my attention, Ryuuichirou," the man began slowly. "I trust Misaki more than I trust myself, so I am sure he will hold a modicum of decorum with regards to this issue. I am glad you spoke to me though since I want Misaki to agree to have his name published in such a perverted piece of work. I shall speak to him on the matter."

Isaka could have hit his head against a wall; was the man really that dense?

"No, Haruhiko, I don't think you understand. I am telling you this not because of the publishing issue, but because this is a challenge from the prince. He's going to try to take Misaki from you."

**.**

**.**

**END CHAPTER.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The characters are not all on one timeline. :0 The way I think about it is I look at each as its own story within the bigger story. So while say Akihiko's storyline may be in June, Egoist's storyline might already have made it to July or August. If you have questions about timing, ask. I literally have a huge timeline that I have made so that I will be able to keep track of events, so I should be able to answer.
> 
> LOL, oh my, what a dream Aki had in the first part of this chapter. I um, certainly entertained myself writing that... vision of loveliness. I tried to write it in a overly flowery trash novel style, because I've heard his Junai novels are written similar to that? Are they? I haven't seen any translations of them. Who knows if I succeeded, but I giggled so much penning it that it was worth it for that reason alone. I just know that Misaki has it out for me now, for writing him like that. I can see the dagger-ed glare he would give me. Sorry, Misaki. I love you, I promise. Unfortunately, both Usami brothers love you too! You have a crazy road ahead of you, kid.


	9. Advice From A Caterpillar

  
**(** June 7th, 2012 **)**  


* * *

 

"Come on kid, time to hop out of bed, we're gonna hit the road pretty soon, and I'm not leaving without your cute butt, so chop chop!" Isaka sang out.

He grabbed the bed covers with both hands and threw them recklessly off the bed, with as much force as he had put into the motion. He eyed his handiwork approvingly for a moment before turning back to the problem at hand. The young man's shoulders were tense, that much Isaka could tell, so he had a feeling that the kid was awake, and feigning ignorance. He couldn't have that, though. It interfered with his agenda.

He moved in closer, putting both hands on the sleeper's shoulders, and then vigorously began to shake him. "Shinobu-kun, you need to stop dicking around and get up. You're coming with Kaoru, me, and the little guys for the weekend and I'm not taking no for an answer!"

A hand shot out, nearly catching Isaka at the side of the head in a fierce blow. He smiled and relinquished Shinobu from his grip, noting that it had got him the result he wanted in the end. Who ever said the use of force was a dirty tactic? It worked, after all!

"I'm awake," the teen griped, "and what's this about going to the country?"

Isaka plopped himself down on the mattress next to Shinobu, outlining it for him, "I already took the liberty of getting the maid to pack you some clothes. We're going to the house so you don't need anything else. All you need to do is sit yourself in the backseat like a good boy, and go along with this. We're going to have a nice little vacation, all of us, so spare me any histrionics you might have been thinking of performing."

Shinobu rolled his eyes. If anyone was the hysterical type in this room, it was Isaka himself. "And why am I invited?"

"Because you need some time off, Shinobu-kun. Some country air will do you good, and you can relax a bit as well. Then when you go back, you'll be full of energy for anything that you might want to accomplish." Isaka eyed him pointedly, as if to say he already knew what that itinerary would include. And of course, he did. Though he was more of a private person, Shinobu had at one point shared his intentions with his older friend. He also knew that courting Miyagi wasn't, for lack of a better phrase, going well. Shinobu highly doubted getting away for the weekend would change that stubborn old man's mind about anything, but it couldn't hurt his chances either.

"Fine, then, Isaka. I will go with you."

"Aww, now see that's all I wanted to hear from the beginning!"

 

* * *

Despite his abrupt awakening, it still took their group about another four or five hours to reach the Isaka's family home in the countryside. It was nice that it was so far from the capitol, but all the same, a long car ride really drained the fun out of a day. By the time they arrived, it was deep into the afternoon, and not much as far as outdoor activities could be done.

Shinobu knew that there would be plenty of opportunity for that tomorrow, though. He planned on going swimming and maybe taking Hideyoshi with him. The little boy was just barely starting to get introduced to the water with floaties, and he figured letting him tag along had two benefits. The first benefit being that he could repay a bit of his host's kindness for taking him in by watching one of the children, and the second being that babysitting could only help in the future. Shinobu didn't classify himself as an optimist, merely determined. If he was going to be a dad, he needed to know how to handle kids.

He was more of an inside person by nature, but now that he was out here, it did seem like somewhat of a relief to be out of the city atmosphere. Best of all, away from his family, who had neglected to call him at all for the entire time he had been staying at the other man's house. Perhaps they didn't even care where he was, or were even thinking of disowning him.

That was a more dramatic option, but probably not what they were considering... yet. It was only a matter of time before Shinobu knew they would see he was serious about Miyagi, that he really did want to marry the elder, and he honestly was in love with him. When they figured that out, they would either accept it, or it would sever their ties forever. He couldn't definitively say which way the cookie would crumble in this case.

He knew he had offended his sister, and that his love was against his parents' ideals, but there was also their pride to consider. Growing up, Shinobu had always been told he was a miracle child - that his mother and father never believed they could have another baby, but then, they had had him. His mother had given birth to Risako not long after their marriage, but as much as they had tried to conceive again, it didn't happen. Presumably due to his mother's low egg count, or that had been the doctor's answer for it. Fast forward eleven years, and along had come Shinobu. Not only was he another healthy child, but the son his father had wanted. Shinobu doubted it would be easy to really give him up, which is what they would have to do if they disowned him.

Then again, if Shinobu really managed to create enough of a rift between himself and his sister, that might end up causing enough tension to make the remaining days of his life unbearable; especially with his parents. Though he may have been the son they always wanted, if he did something they considered shaming then they would definitely make life suck. He really wanted Miyagi at that thought. He wanted the man to love him unconditionally and not just because he was the long awaited heir.

Shinobu scowled at and looked out at the passing scenery. The kid was sitting next to him and kept reaching over and pulling on his shirt sleeve. Normally he'd have reached over and played with him, but he was so preoccupied he just ignored the incessant movements like one would ignore a fly buzzing about the head. He had no time for any sort of thoughts; whether they be about Miyagi or his family.

What he really wanted was to doze off and let time pass by until the older man woke up and accepted him. The background noise of the two adults conversing, the babbling of the baby, and the one sided conversation Hideyoshi was having with himself was enough to make Shinobu's eyelids feel heavy. He allowed them to close and allowed his brain to imagine life with the other man. It was a beautiful scene to behold.

He saw himself, much older, with Miyagi at his side. The old man had white hair showing on his temples and wrinkles marring his perfect features. They were sitting together with a dozen children, mostly boys, for a family portrait. Shinobu felt himself smile at the thought as he realized he wanted to make that vision become a reality.

Slowly he turned his head toward Miyagi and the older man leaned in and kissed him, tenderly, on the lips. The feeling caused him to groan in anticipation and he could hear his husband calling his name softly.

"Shinobu?" the image said calmly as he leaned in for another kiss that Shinobu would more than happily return.

"Shinobu?" the voice was a little louder and his face was inching closer.

"Mmm, Miyagi," Shinobu moaned as he reached out a hand and felt hair at his finger tips.

Shinobu opened his eyes and looked straight into the eyes of Asahina. He realized he had the man's hair in his hand and he was pulling the other's face closer to his own. Shock took hold and Shinobu let out a slight scream; letting go of the elder's head.

Isaka laughed, clapping his free hand to his knee. "Shinobu, I had no idea you were interested in a three-some, but maybe not in front of the kids."

"You are a dirty man!" Shinobu spit out as he jumped away from Asahina and glared daggers toward Isaka.

Asahina looked on with amusement for a moment before maneuvering himself into a position to pick his baby up. "It's okay to dream, Shinobu, just make sure you are not doing anything that is untoward in front of the boys." He then looked at Isaka, "That includes you too."

"Aww, don't be so mean to me. I wasn't the one trying to suck face with you while I was asleep," Isaka whined.

"God, how old are you?" Shinobu snapped sourly as he stood up and got ready to meet the matriarch of the Isaka clan.

The country house was not humble by any means, if anything it was elegant in comparison to the house inside the capitol encasement. Sand-colored brick formed up the walls, and the outdoor space was abundant.

Shinobu could only hope that all of it was enough to set his mind at ease like Isaka had predicted. Maybe if he could stop letting his thoughts revert back to Miyagi, then he would be able to calm down. It was difficult though, because to him the upset felt so fresh despite only being two weeks ago. He had been rejected, and Miyagi, had left the room when he asked for the man to explain why he said no; it was a total and utter failure.

Shinobu followed the others into the foyer, thoughts still clouding his mind. He was so out of sorts that when the others stopped walking, he kept on doing so, which nearly sent him careening into the woman they had been going to meet. Shinobu noticed at the last moment, and brought his stride to a halt just in time. Not in time to stop the laughter that echoed from a certain thirty-three year old annoyance in their group, but in time to not knock right into the great lady.

"Isaka-sama." He bowed respectfully to his companion's mother, a flush of embarrassment heating his cheeks at the near miss.

"Oh sweet boy, no need to be so formal! We know each other, don't we?" She poked a finger under his chin, and he lifted it up to look at her. The woman was grinning at him with white teeth, a vitality in her features that did not match her years in age. "You can call me by that precious nickname you came up with when you were smaller; I quite enjoyed it. Say it again? Do you remember?"

"Manatka?" Shinobu uttered, scowling a little, as he was embarrassed by the name. It was a corruption of her given name, Manatsu, which, at age seven, Shinobu had had trouble pronouncing correctly, thus the mix-up. Isaka's matron had taken to the name because the end sound reminded her of 'oka,' and she had missed being called that as her own son was grown up by that point, and he called her differently then.

Despite their friendship, the fact was that Isaka was fourteen years older than Shinobu.

The two's bond had started off around that age as casual, Isaka being amused at what a precocious child Shinobu had been from early on, and as time dragged on and he grew older, their minds melded in a more equal way. Their families owned land next to one another, and their fathers had often collaborated, Shinobu's father getting more than a few books for his schools through the Isaka's business.

In fact, Shinobu was pretty certain that was the only reason the elder Takatsuki had borne Ryuuichirou's presence at friendly dinners and get-togethers. The Dean thoroughly disapproved of the heir's unique personality, and at one point had been concerned that his sister Risako would fall in love with the bad boy their father considered Ryuuichirou to be. That of course, never would have happened for obvious reasons, but so went his concerns.

However, just three years later Shinobu's parents had something else to disapprove of when Isaka married Asahina. His mother and father were both old-fashioned in this respect, and despite same-sex marriage having been common in the realm since the dawn of time, they didn't agree with it. On top of that Isaka's new husband was a commoner, which also didn't sit too well with a lot of people. Shinobu thought it was silly. People loved who they loved. He wouldn't have cared if Miyagi was a tree in the middle of the average Joe's garden, he still would have wanted to be with the man.

"Ah, and here are my favorite boys!" the older woman chirped, turning away from Shinobu to the rest of the small group. Isaka stepped up, arms outstretched for a hug, but Manatsu moved around him instead, to coo over the baby and Hideyoshi, completely ignoring her son.

"That's right... I'm her favorite _man_ ," Isaka muttered to himself, brushing off the affront with calculated ease. Shinobu had to smile, although he couldn't explain why.

 

* * *

After being shown to a room to rival the prince's bedchamber, Shinobu was given a free spell to sit and think. He didn't get much time to think though before a bundle of energy in the form of Hideyoshi found him and demanded attention the likes of which Shinobu had never been asked for. He sighed and relented because he wanted to feel what it was like to be in charge of a child. The teen had hopes that within the year he and Miyagi would have a boy of their own he could dote on. Spending time with someone else's children was a good way of gaining that experience.

Of course he should have thought the idea through a little more when he realized that the kid had an attention span of about thirty seconds. Within moments of seeing his grandmother with the baby, Hideyoshi ran off to get attention from someone else, leaving Shinobu with the desired time to think about his plan.

What he had so far consisted of this: 1) Marry Miyagi 2) Have Miyagi's babies 3) Live happily ever after; in that order.

The problem at present seemed to be Miyagi not wanting to get married. The second options weren't going to happen if he didn't marry Miyagi. Shinobu was not one to put all of his chickens into one basket, but he figured that if he thought about the second part of the plan first it may help him attain the first part easier. If the older man could see that Shinobu was more than capable of thinking of the future and what he desired, maybe it would help him snare his mate. The things the man said to him at times made Shinobu feel that he just couldn't see him as an adult, even though he was on the brink of turning nineteen. Nothing condescending - Miyagi wasn't like that - but simply he talked to Shinobu as if there was some invisible gap separating them. Shinobu needed to find a way to bridge that gap so he was trying to mature in the ways that he could think of for now.

How to have babies though? That was a good question. He knew the basics, it didn't really take a rocket scientist to realize that he'd need to have Miyagi's seed shot into his body in order for a baby to be created.

Shinobu shook his head for a moment at that idea, as it sent shivers down his spine and a jolt into his groin. The thought of Miyagi inside of him made him yearn for the man all the more. Ever since that day, despite it not having gone well, his mind didn't seem to care, sending him more intimate visions than he had had even before proposing to the other. He just really wanted to be with him.

Then again, he could always be the one to implant the seed. Shinobu was at a loss of which position he wanted to be when it came to sex. Sure, he'd read mountains of books on the subject to be sure he understood the mechanics, but what he needed was some expert advice. The married couple he'd tagged along with had to have some ideas; it wasn't as if they didn't have two offspring of their own.

Shinobu would wait until he could corner the two, alone, and ask all the questions he could think of. In that moment he'd been attacked from behind by the same bundle of energy as before, Hideyoshi latching on to the back of his legs, and Shinobu knew he'd need to spend time with the kid or he'd never hear the end of it from all the men in the family.

 

* * *

After dinner that night, Shinobu, Isaka, and Asahina had retired to the drawing room, sans children. Once the meal had been consumed the matriarch had insisted on bathing the boys and letting the older men in the place have a moment's rest. So Shinobu found himself on the sofa with a book he was pretending to read. Across from him sat the older males in a sensitive, yet family-friendly embrace. It was times like these that Shinobu looked forward to more than anything else in the world.

"I see you eying us boy," Isaka smirked as Shinobu turned red from being caught. "What's on your mind? In other words, spill your guts. Tell me everything~!"

Shinobu wanted to smack the man upside the head for his arrogant attitude, but Asahina did that for him, sort of. Rather than using any sort of physical movement, Asahina calmly sighed and moved himself away from the other man, causing Isaka to pout.

The teen watched as Isaka tried to inch closer, failed, and fell back in a huff on the opposite side of the sofa.

"He's right, even if he is using an attitude," Asahina said softly. "Was there something on your mind, Shinobu-kun?"

Shinobu took a deep breath and tried to find the right words for the occasion. Rather than the intelligent sentence he was looking for, he just stammered, "I don't know how to make Miyagi care about me like you two do for one another." Okay, so it wasn't drivel, but it wasn't Shakespeare either.

Isaka gleamed at the comment since he'd known it was coming; that was why the kid has sought him out in the first place.

"Just show up naked one day and offer yourself to him. That ought to do the trick. We'll see if he can resist once he has that in front of him."

Asahina frowned to Isaka's other side, indicating his disapproval.

"I hope you could show a little more decorum, Ryuuichirou-sama. I believe he's being serious, which merits serious advice."

"That _was_ serious advice! Well, how about you then, Kaoru? You're somewhat straitlaced, so would you be able to turn down a hot offer like that?"

Asahina scoffed. "Grow up," was all the answer he gave to the inquiry.

On the sofa, Shinobu's gray eyes flicked between the two others, assessing whether or not he should take either of them at face value. For one thing, he doubted Isaka's advice would work on Miyagi. The old man would probably just laugh and walk right back out of whatever room Shinobu put himself on display in. No, if he wanted to win the professor's heart, he would have to be earnest in his efforts. Showing skin didn't fall under that category.

"You're absolutely right, I'm not as grown up as I should be. That's why I have you to take care of me, Asahina."

The older man rolled his eyes, but opened himself up again to his perverted husband, who all but launched himself into the other's embrace before looking back at Shinobu. Isaka knew he was baiting the younger to get him to open up more. The public displays of affection were to help the younger boy realize what he wanted to talk about, even if it was a roundabout way of hitting the target.

Isaka could see the wheels spinning in Shinobu's head and knew that soon the conversation would get deeper. Even though he was a playful sort of man, he could easily be profound and offer sincere advice like the best of them. All the kid need do was ask.

Knock, knock, knock.

Three pairs of eyes shot toward the door that opened slowly to admit one of the servants of the household. Isaka sat up quickly and made himself a little more presentable given the current situation.

"Is something the matter?" he finally asked after a few moment of silence.

Or was there silence?

A petite wet-nurse walked into the room with a whimpering baby in her arms and a panicked expression on her face. Asahina knew, moments after the appearance of his second son, that he would need to calm the child down. Kichirou was, and Asahina would never probably admit to it, very much like the man that fathered him; both had a penchant for taking up all of Asahina's time. They also both made it worth it though, and he couldn't get too worn out by either's antics in the end.

"I'm so sorry to intrude, but... he hasn't stopped crying for anything, and I think he wants you, my lord."

Asahina nodded thoughtfully, almost as if he had been expecting this to happen. He then offered, "He can get a bit irritable when it's so late. I'll settle him down for sleep in a minute, so please leave him in here with us."

The woman inclined her head in understanding, and then whisked Kichirou to the small bassinet against one wall of the room before she departed, leaving just the three of them again, plus one pint sized addition. Isaka stretched out like a cat on the couch, one hand rubbing down Asahina's back fondly. Asahina leaned into the touch, seeming to be gathering the will to get up and head off to look after his son. To Shinobu's eyes, the man looked to be a bit tired. Come to think of it, they probably all were, but sitting here on the plush sofas was comfortable enough to make it worth ignoring that fact.

Isaka watched his spouse, and, after a pause, asked, "Are you going to go right to bed after you take care of him, or will you be rejoining us?"

"Bed," Asahina confirmed. "So I'll say goodnight for now. I can't be sure I'll still be awake when you show up."

"I dunno, that might not be wise. After all, I could do some pretty naughty things to you when you're unconscious, and you'd never know."

Shinobu fully expected Asahina to frown, maybe even reprimand the man for such a comment. That was what he had been shown all day was the routine, after all. But, instead, this time was different. Asahina laughed. Not uproariously, but he did, the pleasant sound reverberating around the cozy room. He turned to the joker who said it, and in lieu of knocking him upside the head for impertinence, he chose to place a tender kiss at Isaka's lips.

Shinobu wasn't trying to watch, per se, but they were right in front of him, and he was a little bit curious what it was like to be able to be openly affectionate with the person you loved. From what he observed, it didn't even seem raunchy. Just a reaffirming of feelings, if he had to describe it. Still, even the briefest thought of doing that... repeatedly... with Miyagi was titillating, and it gave his stomach quite the knot, considering the fantasy.

The blond shut his eyes, trying to push the idea away for the time being. Such thoughts would only wind up with him in an embarrassing situation if he didn't stop now.

Shinobu watched as Asahina took his child and walked out of the room. The minute the man had the baby in his arms the child started cooing in contentment. Shinobu was awestruck at the display and hoped that when he and Miyagi had babies they would be like that with them as well. Having such a power over someone was a great responsibility and he looked forward to the challenge.

"Did our little display make you a little, shall we say, horny there Shinobu-kun?" Isaka asked with a smirk.

In that moment Shinobu wanted to die and kill the man with a sword, not necessarily in that order. He turned bright red and lowered his gaze away from the man who was able to read him like an open book. Why couldn't Miyagi be that way?

"Shut up, pervert," Shinobu mumbled, scandalized.

Isaka threw back his head and laughed. He knew just where to take the conversation from there.

"Shinobu, you can ask me anything you want. I may come across as a child, but I can tell you that I have some miles, which means I have more knowledge than you do. So why don't you spit it out already and we can get on with the meaty stuff?"

He knew the older man was right. While embarrassing, coming out and asking was the way to get the most information from the conversation. It wasn't as if he was worried about being further embarrassed; Isaka had already made sure he was more than ready to hide under a rock for the rest of time.

"Can you not joke...if I ask you, that is?"

"We won't know till you try," Isaka said with a wink.

There was no turning back and he knew the man would probably end up pestering him until the trip was over if he didn't speak up at that point.

"In all seriousness though, I did want to talk with you about a few things," Shinobu began nervously, "like... marriage, and children... and... s-sex. I just wanted to know what I should know about those things, and just anything you want to say about each. Will you tell me?"

He sat back on the sofa, hand drifting to the side to grip a pillow. Digging his fingers into the silk helped to give him a grip on his anxieties, but what aided the most was the earnest grin on his friend's face. Isaka was obviously a colorful character, but he could have his times of gravity, too. If not for that quality, he might have worn on Shinobu after this long of knowing him.

"Well, since you asked so sweetly, I'll share a little of my vast wisdom." Isaka chuckled, propping his legs up on the ottoman before him. "Which did you want to cover first? People do those things in so many varying orders, after all!"

Shinobu deliberated carefully, but in the end decided to go with issue most at the forefront at that time. "Children."

Isaka settled into his perch on the couch, sifting through where to begin, and then came up with, "Kids... You know how parents aren't supposed to have favorites?"

Shinobu nodded. That was more or less common knowledge, and an axiom he would strive for in his own life when he reached that stage.

"So, that's all well and good, but I'll tell you one thing. Your kids? Your kids will _definitely_ play the favorites game."

The blond looked at his companion, who had chosen to deliver this great truth in an exasperated tone. Given the man's appearance left no clues as to what was niggling at him, Shinobu was getting to be confused. He shifted in his seat, waiting for the rest, as the tone had also implied there would be more words forthcoming, hopefully explaining what in the blazes Isaka meant.

"Take Kichirou for example. Even though he's only been in the world for a couple months, I guarantee you he's spent more than half that time with Asahina. Every time he cries, it's because he's not in the same room, or something silly like that. Geez, the kid even screamed his head off once, when we were in the middle of adult time, and Asahina still got up to go and comfort him! When it's me holding him though, Kichi-chan just sort of tolerates it. He doesn't seem to dislike me, or anything, but I know who his favorite dad is, no questions asked."

Isaka turned his gaze toward the empty doorway with narrowed eyes.

"So... prepare yourself for that if you pop out a few."

They fell silent for the next minutes, Shinobu contemplating the words. He wanted his children to love Miyagi as much as he did, of course, but the youth couldn't help but hope that their preferences wouldn't be so marked as to leave him completely out of the picture. Shinobu wasn't sure how he would feel if that were the case, but it would probably hurt a little. He knew that he could be insufferable at times, and as a parent he certainly wouldn't be the type to roll over, so perhaps that would irk his offspring into looking elsewhere for a favorite father to idolize.

He hoped not, because any child of his and Miyagi's, Shinobu knew would have the capacity to either fill his heart with joy, or to shatter it into innumerable pieces.

"Was it hard being pregnant? As in, on your health. Everything I've read about it seems to give me different stories."

"That's something you might want to talk to Asahina about later on. It's true though, everyone is a bit different. My experience was up and down during the months, but the birth was a nightmare. That's kind of just my luck though. My mother, when she had me, had the same trouble. It's unusual for people in our family to have very many kids because of the difficulty. So when I wanted to have another child, Asahina wouldn't let me get knocked up again, and insisted that he be the one to do it. You see, I didn't exactly tell him that I knew having a kid would be hard on my body the first time... and so it scared him half to death when I had Hideyoshi and collapsed doing it."

Isaka looked up from his musings, and, seeing the fretful cast to Shinobu's face, tempered the explanation with a calm, "Hey now, Shinobu-kun, don't get freaked out now. That's just what happened to me. It's probably not going to happen to you. You're a strong kid, I'm sure you can do it if you want to. Asahina didn't have any trouble when he had Kichirou, and I've seen a lot of guys pull through just fine. No sense in anguishing over it and losing your stomach."

"Is there any way to make it easier?"

"Unfortunately, probably not. You're born with the body frame you have, so either it will suit you for giving birth or it won't. Other than that, I've heard it gets easier with each baby you have, but it's not like I've personally tested that theory. You know, if it doesn't work out, there's always adoption, or surrogates. Options. It's the modern century, Shinobu. But you probably don't want it that way, huh?"

Shinobu had a hard time with the query. It was true that given his choice, he would want to carry and give life to their children, each and every one of them, but what if that wasn't possible? What if, like his own mother, he had a hard time getting pregnant? What if like Isaka it was the birth that tested him? So many variables could go awry, and they weren't the sorts of things he could just work harder at to succeed; they weren't like reworking an assignment for school. It pained him to roll those notions over in rumination; he would feel so, so humiliated if he were to fail at something he desperately wished to accomplish.

But, wasn't it more important that Miyagi and he would have a family, even if he wasn't able to provide that with his own body? Shinobu felt like it was. It would take a lot for him to allow that, time for him to get used to the other ideas, but he thought that he could ultimately persevere if that was his lot in life.

"I hope that it wouldn't come to that, but I will if I have to. Do you think you are going to have another kid, later on?"

"Nah, two is the perfect number. I just wanted Hide-chan to have a sibling is all, because I didn't like being an only child when I was little. Any more would be too much for us. We both work and it's already a handful. The more kids we have, the less time we'd have together, and I dunno if you've noticed but I'd prefer to see Asahina if I can. It's not like I can't function without the man, but I'm used to him being around. 'Sides, we're getting on up in years, so it's probably a good time to call it quits and just roll with the kids we've managed to have."

"How old can you be to have a healthy baby?" Shinobu blurted out.

Once he heard what he said though, he realized he was walking right into hot water, and he honestly couldn't fathom how the question had found its way out of his mouth in the first place. God, what was he thinking? If he didn't want to bring out the devil in his friend, then he needed not to give the man fodder to be devilish about!

"What, you gonna try and knock up your old man, then?" Isaka's eyes danced mischievously, probably imagining the scenario where Miyagi was the one to carry their offspring. "That's pretty naughty of you, kid."

Shinobu blushed bright pink all over his face and ears, not sure what to say at that point. He couldn't remember ever thinking that to himself, and yet he had asked that question. Subconsciously, was that really an option to him? It was challenging to think of the familiar situation he had often fantasized about, reversed, with him being the one in control instead of Miyagi but maybe, _just_ maybe he could picture it. After all, all it meant was making love to the other person, and he had no qualms about being in love with the man, obviously. He had that feeling in droves.

"Ahaha, so you might! Guess we better talk about sex then! My favorite topic, by the way!" And if nothing else that night sent a chill of trepidation down Shinobu's spine, that last sentence did. He could immediately surmise that Isaka would go into this no holds barred, and he wasn't sure if that was a good thing, or a bad thing. He might learn a trick or two off such enthusiasm, but he also might hear more than he really needed or wanted to.

"So... you ever try fingering yourself?"

Score one for boldness, but Shinobu's face heated up at the inquest, and he realized too late that Isaka wouldn't just be telling him stories, but he could potentially be asking about things, too.

"Uh..." he echoed warily, clenching the pillow in his hand to keep from using it to hide his face.

"It's okay. Tell Uncle Ryuuichirou all about your experiences, Shinobu-kun~!"

The youth's volume reached a peak when he clamored, "That just makes it far creepier than it was before! Knock it off!"

"How many fingers?"

"Isaka!"

"Look! If you can't even talk about this much, how are you gonna tell your lover what feels good to you? That's an integral part of it, kid, because no one is a mind reader, and unless you're some sort of masochist, being the silent and suffering type in bed is not too prime. You need to be able to talk about it, especially because you're a virgin; you're probably going to be finding things that feel good as you go along because not everything can be sussed through self-touch alone. He'll both want and need to know that, so he can treat you how it's best for you."

The older man's dark blue eyes glinted, but his brows drew up in a curious way, "Am I making myself clear?"

Shinobu nodded slightly, averting his eyes. The following topic was about to become rather detailed and possibly the most inappropriate line of conversation he'd ever had with any one other than himself. Even when he'd spoke about this within his head, Shinobu would get red in the face and become rather embarrassed.

"I've used...three..." He said the number so quietly he was sure no one could hear him.

Isaka leaned forward with a smirk, "what was that Shinobu-kun?" Though, he heard quite well the number.

"T-t-three..." Shinobu whispered, turning redder than a ripe tomato.

At this Isaka threw back his head and cackled like the Wicked Witch of the West. "You like 'em big there, don't you Shinobu?" Isaka winked.

Shinobu closed in on himself a little bit, tears just about springing to his eyes in embarrassment.

Isaka stood up and sat down on the sofa next to the boy, wrapping an arm around the other's shoulders. Shinobu was shaking slightly and he knew the boy really wanted to know, but also had no way of knowing how to ask.

"Let me let you in on a little secret here boy," Isaka said with a serious tone. "What you have been doing will make it easier the first time Miyagi and you make love. Contrary to popular belief though, no one is as 'big' as those fruity manga let off. Yes, there are some really well endowed men in the world, but the human rectum is not big enough to handle someone who is overly large. Even if Miyagi is rather well endowed, your tight little ass will not be able to handle more than about five inches of him, maybe six if the inner sphincter gives a little."

Shinobu just about hacked up a hairball at this comment. He wasn't expecting an anatomy lesson on the subject, but in his mind he knew that it was important to know everything about the process. It was one thing to read, but another to have someone actually tell him. In his mind he'd actually wanted to use his entire fist to make sure it didn't hurt when his virginity was given away.

"Now, don't let schematics worry you none, Shinobu-chin," Isaka said lightly. "If anything, this information was probably something you'd already known anyway. The fact that you are already preparing your body is admirable. I can tell you that I didn't quite do it as well as I should have."

The boy looked up at his elder with wide eyes. Isaka was admitting that Shinobu was doing the proper thing when it came to getting his body ready for sex. Hearing this from the man actually made him feel better than he'd felt in a while.

"I like the feeling of something inside of me. The full feeling feels right somehow..." he wavered slightly, both with humility and with lack of knowledge. "But...I don't know what it would feel like the other way. I've never stuck my..." Shinobu stopped for a second before continuing. "I do like when I 'hold' myself and stroke..."

Isaka almost felt bad for the boy, not being as articulate as normal.

"I don't know what's right or wrong in the feelings."

Admitting that he was ignorant in most everything was not only hard, but also a humbling experience for Shinobu. Spitting out this knowledge came at quite the cost for his already wavering psyche. He couldn't believe he'd actually said everything he'd said, thus ended up covering his mouth. He felt nowhere closer to knowing the answer than when he'd started this conversation.

Isaka knew he'd need to tread carefully from there on out. He knew the stress Shinobu was feeling as per the drops of sweat that were appearing on the boy's brow. This conversation was really important to his growth.

"There's no wrong way or right way about it, Shinobu-kun, you just need to do what feels good for the both of you! If you always want him to be inside, then do that. If you want to be on top, hell kid, go for it! Or if you want to share, then that's fine too."

Shinobu gingerly removed the hand he had been holding against his mouth out of embarrassment, muttering, "I don't think that's something I'll know until I do it."

"That's a smart way of thinking kid. You can 'prepare' yourself as much as you want, but nothing prepares you quite until that first day. It will probably be rather difficult, truthfully."

"I am prepared for that," Shinobu admitted. "I guess I just want to know when I am going to know I am ready. I feel like I am not myself when I am thinking about these things. This type of conversation is difficult and completely humiliating because I admit, I know nothing."

Isaka laughed again at Shinobu's words. He loved this kid.

"The best advice I can give you after your heartfelt confession is that you need to follow your gut instincts. You are a smart kid, Shinobu-chin, and I have a feeling that even if I were to give you all the advice in the world, you'd still know better than me."

The future husband of Miyagi Yoh was astonished at this bit being spewed from his friend's mouth. If only others were so candid when it came to letting Shinobu know that they too were clueless. It was a beautiful thing to be sure.

"But that's not all. Feelings are one thing, there are other matters I can discuss with you, easily," Isaka said as he stood up and stretched his arms, ready for bed.

"Like what?" Shinobu was also tired, both mentally and physically.

"As for general advice - prepare carefully. Lube isn't a bad idea. Condoms either, if you don't want to get knocked up, or when you're sleeping with the person for the first time. It's not a trust issue, it's about respect. If he cares about you he should want to protect you."

"So you did when you had sex for the first time?"

"Ah, well... shit, we did use protection, but unfortunately we were kind of reckless kids and didn't think anything about jumping right in, so I went ahead without getting him ready, and honestly, it hurt. I felt really bad, Shinobu-kun, so don't make the same mistake as me. It can really kill the romance, get what I mean? And you can do some serious damage if you're not careful."

And so the discussion continued on.

 

* * *

"So what did he want to speak with you about? Or rather, what did you tell him?"

Asahina held up the comforter for the man to slide under, eyes following his movements. Ryuuichirou settled in and plopped right back on his pillow, stretching his arms out contentedly. Isaka's hair fanned out against the white case, the hard lines of his body imprinted in the starchy sheets of their bed. Asahina supposed it was as good a time as any to sneak in his observations, so he studied his husband's supine form unabashedly. At times, it was hard to believe how long they had been together for.

"Ah nothing, we just talked about what a hot piece of ass you are."

"So it was an earnest conversation?"

"Yep, one-hundred percent. Kid's got a discerning eye, seeing as how you've only gotten better looking over the years."

"Ryuuichirou." Asahina crept closer, large palm slithering under the covers to rest on the man's stomach, "Be serious."

"Do I have to?" A wicked shine in Isaka's dark blue eyes made itself known. He placed a hand over the one touching his skin, linking their fingers. "I think it's much more fun if I'm not. Besides, Asahina, I think you know me well enough to be able to interpret by this time. Let's play a little." He leaned over, placing a quick kiss on the man's mouth before moving back into his laying pose.

"Did you say goodnight to the boys?"

"'Course I did. Geez, what kind of father do you take me for?" He sighed dramatically, after which, adding, "Anyway, don't worry about them. Hide-chan's sleeping with Ki-chan so the little guy's pleased as punch. I bet he'll be all settled down by tomorrow morning. All three bubs are in bed now that I told Shinobu-kun to get some sleep, so take off the daddy cap, Asahina, everyone is A-OK. _You_ can just relax now, and pay attention to _me_. I missed you."

Asahina smiled, in spite of himself. "Is that so?"

"Yeah. After all, this was originally supposed to be a trip for the two of us. Sure, we'll have the anniversary one come December, but the summer... well that's just nostalgic isn't it, Kaoru?"

The man didn't answer, even though that was an affirmative. Instead he crept closer, cashing in on that so called 'nostalgia' and repeating old ploys. Not giving Isaka a chance to counter, he leaned in and captured the man's mouth in a hard kiss. His hand went to the back of his husband's head, holding close as he had his way. Asahina's lips were merciless, worshiping from every angle until the other parted his own for intrusion.

Rolling on top of Isaka in the bed, Asahina slipped his tongue into the slighter man's mouth, seeking out his. As the two danced, he felt Isaka's hand sneaking up to wantonly knead at one buttock, palpating the firm flesh and stirring him further.

Asahina remembered their first time. It had been in the summer, late at night somewhat like this. After he had awoke from a nightmare of his father, feeling cold and afraid, Isaka had stayed up with him, had tried to comfort Asahina in his own sanguine manner. It was that time that the invisible dam had broke, and all the emotions he had been keeping hidden flowed out in one spectacular burst. Isaka had always been good to him, ever since they were children, and over the years Asahina had only fallen more in love with the man. A condition he didn't think was possible, given how his upbringing had shown him the darker turns love could take. His mother had been in love with his father, but that person had only ended up hurting her and him both.

He thought he should have been scared of getting that close to Ryuuichirou, only he wasn't. Something about him was so intrinsically comforting that Asahina couldn't have staved off such feelings even if he had wanted to.

Isaka nipped at the lobe of his ear, whispering silkily to the other, "Put it in me, Kaoru." His tongue pushed out, laving luxuriantly at tender flesh, and adding to Asahina's already buzzing reality as he felt small strains of pleasure by the trick. He settled himself how he wanted, noting with desire that even as his head rested against the tight ring of muscles, it soothed and relaxed, inviting him to make his foray. He took the chance, thrusting forward and piercing his lover in one strong movement.

It was as perfect as it always was, being connected. His eyes fluttered but remained stubbornly open, watching expressions dance across the other's face as they began to move in earnest. It seemed tonight was to be a fast tempo, but just to love at all was enough for him. Already it felt like the small intimacies they had shared throughout the day far outnumbered those during any normal week of work and parenting.

He gathered up Isaka's thighs and spread them sharply apart, giving him more leverage to shove forward. Isaka's groans resounded in his ear, relishing the sound fucking he had been craving for over a week. The man's sweet ass seemed to suck him right in, so hungry was he for it. With all the various senses pulsating together in his consciousness, he desired nothing more than to really go for it, and the other seemed to feel the same way.

Asahina pulled out abruptly, and flipped Isaka onto his side. One leg was dragged straight up into the air, Asahina moving to straddle the one still laying placidly on the bed. Bracing himself with arms clutched around the skyward leg, he began pushing back into his husband, the new position giving him a tantalizing angle. Not only was it easier to get into a rhythm, but he could keep a close eye on Ryuuichirou's face as they made love, catching every grimace or grin as it washed across the man's face. Isaka's body was spread out before his vision like an offering, one that he would always treasure.

"Fucking hell, Kaoru," the younger gasped, sucking in a long, ragged breath. His eyes were narrowed, dark blue irises just barely peeking out at the scene. To watch Kaoru rutting smoothly inside of him, to feel the rub of the man's hard cock against his tender insides - it was bliss pure and simple. Asahina's strokes were always sure and forceful, delivered so precisely that it actually annoyed Isaka at times. How was it even possible that the man could have such control when Isaka always felt like a hot mess in the midst of sex? It wasn't fair at all.

Isaka clenched his muscles out habit, tightening the seal around the burgeoning length that rocked inside of him. His eyes fell shut, and he reached down, starting to palm his own erection at the head, knowing, with a pinch of exasperation, that he wasn't going to last much longer than this. It had been too long since they had done this, and feeling Asahina splitting him wide now was overwhelming to handle after the time without it.

He dragged his fist up and down rapidly, feeling hotter by the second and liable to bubble over. What surprised him was the stark groans issuing from the other, the slower movement of hips that usually meant he was close as well.

"Come on," Isaka growled in encouragement, capturing Asahina's half-lidded stare.

Strong fingers dug into his thigh, and as if in response, the man shoved forward suddenly, ripping a satisfied noise out of Isaka's throat. He tugged on his cock as it began to spill, whining in contentment as his partner's head swelled up inside him, doing the same. The feeling was one he had missed, wet and full, with an accompanying ache at being ravaged. He may be getting on in years, but nights like this proved he could still be acrobatic if he wanted to.

He wanted to.

Breathing hard, he shuddered as Asahina left his body, kind hands helping ease his other leg back onto the bed. Asahina then settled himself beside Isaka, pressing a kiss to the brunette's temple. For a few minutes they had to take stock, letting the hormones die down a little and their hearts slow to normal. **  
**

Languishing in the sheets, Isaka started to feel relieved. Ever since Kichirou had come along, there had been less and less time for them to be together, not exhausted, and this vacation felt like it couldn't have come at a better time.

**.**

**.**

**END CHAPTER.**


	10. In A Terrible Mess

 

  
**(** June 18th, 2012 **)**

* * *

 

Giving up had never been an option for Shinobu. It wasn't even in his field of view as far as the way he could move forward in achieving his dreams. Put in hard work and you will be rewarded; that was one of the few advisory lectures of his father's that the youth had ever seriously taken to heart, and only because it was logical enough for his tastes to follow. Even though he believed Miyagi and he were supposed to to be together, everything wasn't going to fall into his lap, so he would have to go out there and get the man himself. In his case, that meant trying again even after being soundly rejected by that person.

He had to hold his hope firm in his heart that it would work out, or lest be discouraged.

Today, Shinobu was trying a similar approach to before, with a modified attitude. He would try to reason things out with Miyagi because perhaps that would make the man take him more seriously than spewing confessions and being aggressive and defiant as far as affirming his love. Apart from that, he was adding in a new strategy, and that was to subtly show the other some of the reasons why Shinobu would be a good person to have in his life.

In his depressed state after being turned away, he had missed the opportunity to do something for Miyagi's birthday, which would have been impeccably timed. Miyagi and he were born on the opposite poles of June, the elder on the 1st, and Shinobu on the 30th. It was a small detail that thrilled him, another nod toward their match.

He couldn't help thinking of his newest idea as a birthday present for both; late for Miyagi and early for him.

That idea was what had him trudging through the city on the way to the university where his future husband sat.

Shinobu wasn't one for pouncing completely unexpectedly, but after their last encounter he figured if he showed up at the school where others were, then he'd at least have a chance of the other paying him enough courtesy to join in on the lunch he'd painstakingly created. The boy didn't like to use such underhanded tactics unless absolutely necessary. In his mind, anything that snagged him one professor was beyond absolutely necessary.

He made his way through the gate of the university with his trademark scowl keeping anyone from attempting to communicate with him. It wasn't that he didn't want to meet new people. Okay, scratch that, he couldn't care less about meeting other people. The only person that had ever been on his mind of late was Miyagi. To Shinobu there was no other existence for the most part, it was he and Miyagi.

The walk through the halls made him a little nervous, after all, his father worked there, but it was better that he stand up to the old codger without hesitation, or he'd just be whipped into submission. That would not happen as long as there was still breath and hope in Shinobu's existence. No one, not even the professor himself with his stubborn mien, would come between them. He'd worked far too long on figuring out how to get Miyagi to believe that he wasn't just some kid in it for the kicks; he really loved the man with more emotion than anyone should be allowed.

Once Shinobu made it to the door to Miyagi's office, he paused. He could hear talking inside, which meant that the man wasn't alone.

Shinobu didn't exactly care in most cases, but he figured that because the university was a place of business as well as a classy establishment, he'd better be polite enough to knock rather than just barge in with no warning. Hesitantly, he placed his hand against the door as if to feel Miyagi's soul through the wood. It was a stupid notion, but something that made him feel closer to the man nonetheless.

After a few deep breaths, he rapped on the door and took a small step back. At this point he waited until someone came and opened the door.

That someone wasn't Miyagi. It was a woman, dressed in a scarlet dress that clearly showed her nipples as well as the fact that she wasn't wearing any panties. Shinobu wrinkled his nose in visceral disgust; the woman was obviously after his man and he wasn't about to let her put a claim on him. No way, no how. In fact he was almost offended on the elder's behalf that someone would demean themselves in that way and think it would be palatable to the other.

"Miyagi?" he called out in a brave tone, as he stepped past the harlot and into the room, "I made you some lunch."

The professor stood at his desk with a cigarette hanging loosely from his lower lip. He hadn't expected to see the kid, even though the boy had crossed his mind a few times since their last encounter. Miyagi raised an eyebrow as he took in the sight of Shinobu wearing a cardigan sweater and pin-striped slacks. He looked like a regular preppy, save for the fact that he was carrying a huge cloth-wrapped lunch box in his hands. Well, wasn't this a new development?

"I wasn't aware that we were having lunch today, Shinobu-chin," he quipped as he extinguished his cigarette in the ash tray on his desk.

"That's because I just got back into town, and I thought it a good idea to make you something to apologize for missing your birthday."

Miyagi coughed slightly, "I didn't know you knew when my birthday was." This was rather a surprise to the man, and he wondered where the other could have gleaned that information from in the first place. Wisdom dictated it was from the sister, reality dictated it was a discovery made solely through Shinobu's own ingenuity.

"Will you join me?" Shinobu questioned, hopefully. Miyagi could see the hope in the boy's eyes, and couldn't very well turn such a pleading face down, so he nodded in acquiescence.

"Wait...Yoh-san, I wanted to talk with you some more..." the girl still standing in the room with the two men pleaded, with some urgency in her tone.

"Sorry, Sora-san, but if my brother-in-law came all the way here to have lunch with me, then I shouldn't turn him down," Miyagi stated calmly as he grabbed his coat. Truth be told, this was a timely and convenient escape from the problem at hand, so honor or politeness wasn't the deciding factor in the least.

"You're divorced, so he's not technically related to you anymore!"

In that moment, Shinobu wanted to walk over and slap her upside the head for her rudeness, but he didn't wind up needing to do so since Miyagi came to his rescue.

"I divorced his sister; I didn't divorce him."

That was the end of the conversation as Miyagi grabbed Shinobu by the arm and pulled him out of the door. Shinobu didn't know whether to jump for joy or to demand an explanation. Either way, inside, he was ecstatic.

After a few minutes of being pulled through the halls, Shinobu felt his arm drop and he straightened up a little bit in response.

"Sorry that you had to witness that, Shinobu-kun, but it seems the vampires have descended upon hearing of my divorce. Not quite sure why, but a few have tried to coerce me by offering me titles and this-or-that so that I'll marry them." He sighed long-sufferingly, and Shinobu felt rather conflicted in that he sympathized, but felt guilty for the fact that _he_ was actively trying to seek the other's hand. Not forcefully, though.

"What is this world coming to when people think men can be bought with money?"

The idea made Shinobu laugh internally since he was very much aware of quite a few people who married for such things, even within his own family. Love seemed to take a backseat when it came to marriages. As well, seeing how in demand his Miyagi was made him want to hurry his seduction of the older man along that much faster. If these sorts of things set the man to being alarmed, well, then, he could easily show him a different flavor of proposal, one made out of genuine affection.

"Thank you, Miyagi. I made this lunch for us, but didn't really expect you to want to eat it with me," he offered, shyly.

Miyagi chuckled. "You're cute sometimes, Shinobu-chin." He clapped the youth firmly on the back.

Shinobu realized that the older man was trying to forget their last discussion and while it made him sad, today's events stoked the fire even more, seeing that others were interested in the one he wanted. Of course, having been enamored of the man for the past few years, even though Shinobu despised them all as his unworthy rivals, he could understand why someone would be attracted to Miyagi; he had more than a few good qualities if one were counting.

With a renewed sense of determination, the youth nodded and continued the walk to the canteen.

Once in the cafeteria, Miyagi got a good look at the lunch and didn't know how to approach the issue. It certainly had been crafted with care, if not culinary finesse.

The main ingredients were cabbage and pumpkin. Some burned rice was in the bottom of the box and there were pieces of pumpkin squash along with fried cabbage leaves on top. In truth it looked like something a dog would turn its nose up at, but the fact that Shinobu had made the lunch pressed Miyagi into trying it.

The first few bites from either party was silent. Summarily, Shinobu broke the silence.

"I'm still not giving up on us, Miyagi," he stated simply.

Miyagi didn't know quite how to respond to what this kid was saying. He knew the boy had been all gung ho a while back about having feelings, but he'd figured the glaring three week or so absence was the kid coming to his senses. If that notion wasn't true, what did that mean in the scheme of things?

Had Shinobu been like the girl in his office just a short time ago he might have considered it, but the fact that his brother-in-law, not even a man yet, but someone of the same gender, was still hung up on him made Miyagi a little concerned. It wasn't because of the fact that he was a boy anymore, or that there was a huge age difference between them, because he realized in that moment that he had missed the kid's incessant chattering while he'd been away.

The idea rattled him, leaving him a bit vulnerable to the next words that spawned from the younger's mouth.

Shinobu continued, "I have thought about what it will be like to have a family with you, Miyagi." Miyagi coughed impressively, and could feel squash strings go up his nose. "The idea of you and I taking our kids to the playground, or to the museum. I even had a dream about you reading your favorite books to them as a bedtime story. We shared dinner together as a group every night."

Miyagi could feel his head start to spin. The brat had thought that far ahead when the foundation hadn't even been laid yet? What in the hell was going on inside his mind?

"Shinobu, I don't see why you'd choose someone like me when I'm old enough to be your father," he pointed out as he took another bite of the barely edible concoction sitting in front of him. He thought it a rather valid point. Sure the kid was of legal age, but the difference between them couldn't be brushed under the rug so easily.

"I don't think age matters in a real relationship. We can beat the idea that people need to be of a similar age to get along."

This made Miyagi sigh as he put his utensils down and frowned. "Why would you want to marry someone like me?"

Shinobu could feel his heart beating through his chest as he looked at his plate of half-eaten food. "Because, I love you, Miyagi," he whispered resolutely.

Miyagi almost felt a drum burst in his head as the confession had a completely different effect on him than the last time. He'd scoffed at the idea before, but this time he was starting to feel something. What that something was, he didn't know, but it was there.

"Is it any good?"

The professor shook his head to clear it some, and looked at Shinobu again. "What?"

"The food, is it any good?" Shinobu asked, shyly.

Miyagi looked at the plate of vegetables and rice, and thought for a moment, at which point he replied, evenly, "It's not bad." To prove his point, he picked up his chopsticks and started to eat again.

A small smile, not very big, but definitely not the scowl the kid usually wore, appeared on Shinobu's face and it caused the professor's heart to beat a samba in his chest. What in the hell was going on that he had a reaction like that?

After the meal ended, which hadn't been a bad idea in the end, Miyagi escorted Shinobu to the gate and walked back to his office.

His head was on fire and he really needed a cigarette, or an ibuprofen to ease the dull throbbing. He didn't really care about which cure it was at that moment. Something was happening within the recesses of his soul and it wasn't a feeling he'd ever had before. He had a feeling it was a disruption in his thinking that wouldn't soon dissipate, either.

"You must have something you really like on your mind," someone commented as Miyagi lifted the melon attached to his neck from the desk.

"What do you mean, Kamijou?" he inquired of his subordinate, sitting on the other side of the shared office.

"Usually when you get like this it's because you've found some new author you're addicted to, so this new one must be good to have you looking like you're about ready to explode. Who is it this time?"

"Shinobu," Miyagi mumbled without thinking.

Hiroki cocked his head to the side. "Is that a new author? What's the given name?"

"What?" Miyagi was a little lost until he realized he'd just said that the kid was on his mind. "Oh, never mind Kamijou, I don't have an author on my mind this time. I'm just a little lightheaded. Maybe I need a nap or something."

"If you're sure. Perhaps after this rest of yours you'd like to _finally_ get around to grading some papers?" Hiroki deadpanned, indicating a pile of papers a foot deep on Miyagi's desk for emphasis.

"...I think I'll leave them in your capable hands, Professor Kamijou," Miyagi crooned as he stood up and brushed past the assistant professor with a smooth flourish.

He didn't listen as he heard the other man call him some rather explicit metaphors and grumble about inappropriate tasks. Completely reliable behavior, as always could be expected of the brunette. This thought made Miyagi grin and, for just a moment, he was able to forget that there was a spoiled little brat named Shinobu who had plagued his mind this afternoon.

 

* * *

 

**. . . Misaki . . .**

(June 21st, 2012)

* * *

 

A warm, comforting presence surrounded his form, living, breathing, heart beating along with his own. Against his back was the solid being, and Misaki could feel arms cast around his abdomen, cradling him in a gentle embrace. For a moment all the youth wanted to do was luxuriate in repose, to let the time pass like grains of sand through an hourglass, slowly and steadily. Even if that time was spent awake, it was like a little slice of heaven. He didn't want to move from there, but he ultimately knew that he had to, to get up and greet the day instead of sleeping it away. There was work to be done and life to be lived. Time to leave the comfort for now.

Misaki blinked his eyes open gradually, lids pulling back slowly as they adjusted to the shadowy proportions of the bedroom. It would already be light outside, most likely, as the hours came earlier in the summer, but the shades were tightly drawn to block out any menacing rays from entering.

He shifted slightly in the bed, moving the arm that had landed under his side so that the dull ache of being laid on was no longer present, and he let out a small sigh, wondering what he should do first now that he was at least partially awake. Before he could make that decision though, there was a modicum of movement from behind him, and the faint rustling of bedclothes indicated that the other man had awoke.

"Misaki, are you awake?" Haruhiko wondered placidly, trying not to jostle the boy any as he relinquished his embrace in case he wasn't.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Haruhiko-san, for waking you up too," Misaki apologized.

Normally he rose a little bit earlier than the elder, and even though it was only about a half an hour's difference, he liked to try and be quiet during that time and let the man get that extra portion of sleep. Often he was also able to finish breakfast before the other joined him to eat, though, sometimes, Haruhiko would spend time with him while he cooked it in the kitchen if he was awake or had not dressed for the day before coming to the meal.

"No need," was the concise answer to his worry.

For a brief period there was a silence, and Misaki had lost his train of thought after talking, so he waited for the other to bring something up, or to make a move instead. He turned on the mattress, stretching out on his back instead and determinedly stared above, at the ceiling.

"Good morning."

Misaki tilted his gaze to the side, glancing at Haruhiko.

Quietly, he returned the salutation, feeling a faint flutter at the man's disheveled state. It wasn't like he didn't get to see it most mornings, but it was a sight that still caught him off guard due to the lord's normally put-together front. Haruhiko was a neat person by manner and he took similar care for his appearance, but like everyone else after sleep, he was a bit off immaculate.

Haruhiko moved, leaning slightly over Misaki to place a soft peck at the brunette's mouth. It lingered longer than a normal good-morning kiss though, which caused Misaki to investigate, looking over the man's face to pick out his motive. Haruhiko-san was staring intently into his eyes, and it wasn't so much a mystery at that junction what might be on his mind.

Slowly, Haruhiko let his body lower down, and Misaki sucked a big breath in, suddenly feeling flustered by the knowledge flooding his brain. His pulse was beating hard, and though he couldn't admit to it aloud, his body agreed steadfastly with the elder's motions, naturally excited after waking. Even if it impugned Misaki's pride as a man, it wouldn't take much for him to acquiesce to what was about to take place.

Mouths melded once more, firmer than before.

His tongue traced the inside of Misaki's bottom lip, tickling the flesh and causing the younger to moan appreciatively, a bit of saliva escaping to trail down their chins. Misaki ground restlessly against the other, feeling the heady weight of his fiancé laying on him, and the emotions that was stirring. He tentatively sought Haruhiko's tongue with his own, blushed despite himself when the man let him begin to take control of the kiss, his tongue swiping over Haruhiko's to brush against the roof of the lord's mouth.

Several moments later, Haruhiko pulled away, inquiring, "Misaki? Do you wish to…?"

Misaki's vivid flush flared up more, but his hands rose to be placed in each other's embrace, his arms looping around Haruhiko's neck in nonverbal agreement. He nodded his head, eyes pinched shut for the time being.

A soft kiss grazed his lips, and he knew that Haruhiko-san understood his meaning. Just how was it that he was so easily read? Misaki did have to wonder at times how the older man always knew, never mind how convenient it was to not have to blurt out embarrassing things even if they were things he wanted.

They rolled in the bed, Haruhiko holding Misaki's back as they turned.

The boy righted himself once settled, finding his place to be straddling the other's lap, and he felt a longing deep within him rising to the surface. It felt like a fire was coiling in his stomach, his lust manifested in the reactions of his body and intensifying with time. Below him, he could feel a definite firmness that indicated Haruhiko's own aroused state.

Misaki's mouth watered a little, and he shook his head to try and clear it of some of the overwhelming emotions surging in a frenzy within his mind. It was better to just do these things, and not think about them too much, or he would be too shy to continue past a point. It was something that they both wanted, so Misaki would try his best.

In a minute.

Misaki carefully locked his legs, not moving to kneel over Haruhiko, but to remain snuggled against the man's warm frame instead, laying his head at the collarbone.

Haruhiko was quiet, merely caressing the back of Misaki's thighs and watching the boy's still sleep-hazy face. A phantom of fear clouded the elder's face for a moment, when he thought of the situation now, and what he might stand to lose, but, then, meeting that emerald stare made it all vanish. It was true, what he had said before. He trusted Misaki, and because he did, he needed to have faith that things would work out how they were meant to, and that their life together wouldn't be disrupted, no matter what antics his brother might attempt to drive a wedge between them.

When he had steeled himself sufficiently, Misaki felt around for a bottle on the nightstand that was becoming increasingly familiar, to his slight embarrassment. Ever since they had talked about children a month ago, it seemed like they were doing _that_ a lot more often than was typical for them, and thus the familiarity.

Misaki methodically lathered some lubricant on for the other, trembling at the force of Haruhiko's stare as he watched and waited for the ritual to be through. Misaki could feel his erection curve sharply toward his belly at the look, as if his body knew all too well the chain of events that would be playing out. The elder's slate colored eyes were wide with wonder, his mouth cast open, panting softly into the fortified half-light of their bedroom whilst being handled.

When Misaki set the bottle back on the bed, he found he couldn't tear away the link of their stares, and he fixed himself back into position without breaking the gaze, determined to gather his courage and put it to use.

It wasn't easy, but somehow he managed. Feeling the blunt head grinding against his entrance, Misaki had to grit his teeth before starting to sink down on the engorged length, forcefully expanding his tight entrance as he went. It was an abundance of relief when the crown pushed past the restrictive rings of muscle lining the way in, and Haruhiko's cock sprung smoothly deep inside, beginning to fill the boy with his need.

Misaki started to move slowly at first, raising himself up, feeling every inch graze at his tender insides. It was the plunging that was difficult, Haruhiko's length thickening near the base and thus testing Misaki's reserve. He let himself be thrust up into steadily, but controlled the pace to something manageable, his nerve endings teetering at the crossroads of pain and pleasure.

Haruhiko latched onto the younger man at the hips, helping and guiding him through the lulls where Misaki hesitated.

The boy was so beautiful to Haruhiko from this position, riding him with cute determination in his attitude. Misaki's hair was mussed from both sleep and passion, chocolate brown strands sticking out in any which direction, wanting smoothing. His knees were digging into the mattress, his thighs spread wantonly on either side of the elder, leaving an in-obscured view. Traveling up the youth's body, his stomach clenched with the effort of offering himself; his nipples were erect, pink pearls against the olive backdrop of his bare skin.

The first time they had ever made love reminded him of this. It had been Haruhiko's birthday, in the autumn time, and Misaki had crawled into his bed before he himself arrived to it that evening. As shy with words as ever, all Misaki had said to explain his intentions were, '"I want to try and do _that_ with Haruhiko-san."' The night had ended with Misaki perched on his lap like even now, clutching onto his shoulders for dear life as they rocked in tandem.

He urged Misaki to come closer, the younger man laying flat on top of them both as they changed things.

At this angle the pace was slow, and Haruhiko slipped into the boy at a curve, grasping at each flank and keeping them spread as he drilled upward, tortuously rubbing against already twitching musculature and pushing against Misaki's prostate at every second or third interval. The younger's arousal was trapped between them, receiving blissful friction from being stroked between heated skin on either side, milky fluid spilling onto both their stomachs as he began to peak.

Misaki nearly mewled in pleasure at the languorous rhythm, being unable to concentrate on anything but the other's thick tool splitting him open and constantly brushing the sensitive surfaces that lay within him, working him into frenzy. He dug his fingers into Haruhiko's forearm, clinging and simultaneously pleading a little with the action, being unable to form cohesive sentences at that point. All he had were gasps, breaths, and soft moans as he tried to tell the other.

His eyes fluttered and pinched shut momentarily as Haruhiko began shoving starker than before, somehow giving him just the push he needed. Misaki could begin to feel himself bubbling over, and he rode it out, muscles spasming involuntarily, a rush of euphoria making itself known to his system.

He was so at peace then, and he hid his face in the older man's shoulder, tentatively laying a small peck at the side of his neck. Haruhiko was still, having finished right beside Misaki, and the youth could feel his warm essence weighing inside of him, evidence of satisfaction.

Misaki felt boneless, and all he could really do was hold onto his fiancé, sweaty, quiet, and content in the early morning.

He couldn't possibly have guessed that that day, though beginning not too out of the ordinary, would be the start of a chain of events that ultimately, might change the very face of his future.

 

**. . . . .**

All in all, if Misaki had to say, today seemed like an auspicious day. It was a Thursday, and therefore almost the end of the week. Misaki wasn't a salary man by any means, in fact cooking for Haruhiko, because he had started out at the earliest hire-able age, fifteen, was the only job he had ever held, but the normal week had limitations for him also.

For work purposes, it was only ever during the week that business dinners would be held at the house, and those took an extra level of preparation and extra food besides to accommodate all the guests. Sous chefs were brought in to help if the event was large, but then again, that could be a headache in of itself depending on who showed up for work. Some were more diligent than others, as was true of any profession.

Then in his personal life, there was of course the fact that it was easier to go out of the capitol to visit with friends or Takahiro on the weekends, as most everyone had those days off. This weekend he hadn't yet made plans, but the freedom was worth looking forward to. Just the thought of it put the youth in rather a good mood as he worked intermittently throughout the morning and early afternoon.

It was growing later when there came a pause in the normal routine, something that he hadn't foreseen. When it happened, Misaki was finishing off the meat dish that needed to cook for a few hours that was the main course at dinner tonight, and so even though it was unexpected, the distraction was timed rather perfectly if one had to say. He was just sticking the pan into the oven when he was interrupted.

"Takahashi-san! Takahashi-san!"

Misaki's head shot up from the oven at hearing his surname, and he waited curiously as one of the maids hurtled into the kitchen, quivering with excitement, it appeared. Being that she normally comported herself with a quiet dignity, the youth had to wonder what she was getting so worked up over, but he knew that she would explain it in due time. 'Once she recovers her breath, that is,' Misaki thought laughingly to himself.

He walked around the island to greet her. She put one hand on the counter to steady herself, and then she dove right in.

"Takahashi-san, you... have a visitor..."

"Oh?"

"Yes, um, you see, it's... his highness."

Misaki's eyes summarily widened. Could it be that Haruhiko's father had come, to talk to him?

How was he supposed to be prepared for such a guest? He knew it was probably inevitable that they meet at some point - even though it was the King, and despite their awkward relationship, the man still was Haruhiko's sire and nothing could change that fact. Misaki was marrying his son, so it would be natural to want to meet him for that reason. It was just that Misaki had always figured Haruhiko would be with him when they greeted each other for the first time, and that he would have the elder's support during the visit.

Either way, he ought to hurry out and greet him, if he didn't want to be perceived as rude.

Misaki thanked the woman and then started walking toward the living room, where the other would be waiting. He could feel his heart pounding anxiously in his chest, and he was trying to think of what to say. It was starting to hit the youth, the reality of his position. This world, the world of the upper class, it was, beyond all imaginings, going to be his place from here on out. He had to learn how to adjust quickly to those new standards, lest he do something wrong and embarrass himself.

The brunette made the last of the short trek, only to find that his guest was not exactly the person he had thought it would be. Instead of the father, it was the brother who had appeared at the house.

He looked the royal up and down, noting with a twinge of butterflies in the stomach that the man was dressed and coiffed to the nines. Misaki suddenly felt very out of sorts with his rather lackluster, everyday outfit. Then again, he hadn't been expecting company, so he hadn't gotten garbed up like he would if he had advance notice. All he could really do in the end was be himself and try not to worry about it, and that's what Misaki decided he would do. Hopefully the prince wouldn't mind.

"Misaki," Akihiko greeted upon spotting the boy shuffling into the living room, violet eyes dancing with intent.

"Good afternoon, your highness, um, please make yourself at home. I'm sorry; Haruhiko-san is at work right now, so if you came to see him, I'm afraid he's not... here..."

The young man gave a polite bow to welcome the other into the house, hoping that all would be explained to him.

He had at first thought that he would be dealing with the patriarch, but the prince was more mystifying by far. Last month, Misaki had met the man twice, and both times had shown him completely opposing sides of Akihiko. It was hard to reconcile the two, but perhaps the prince was a complex person. It wasn't as if Misaki didn't know people like that, after all.

But what could Akihiko want on this occasion? Haruhiko hadn't mentioned anything about his half-sibling coming for a visit.

"That's quite all right. I came to see Misaki today."

"Me?" Misaki questioned pleasantly, shifting a step from where he was standing, filled with surprise. He didn't know what to make of it, honestly, but if that was what the prince wanted, then he would go along with it. Far be it his place to get in the way.

"Yes, you see, Misaki, I feel as though you and I might have gotten off on a bit of the wrong foot. I am sure by now you are aware that I and my... brother do not have a relationship like you do with Takahiro, but that doesn't mean you and I must war also. I hope that we can instead become close, and, in light of that hope, I wondered if I might spend today in your company."

Misaki didn't quite know why, but the idea of the prince spending time with him left him feeling a bit uneasy. He tried to break eye contact, but the look in the older man's eyes was enough to sway his thought. The violet orbs pierced him through the heart and he could tell that the man was not pulling a fast one on him. The sincerity was enough to make him feel shivers up and down his spine.

"I'm not really dressed for going anywhere with his highness," he answered truthfully, hoping that it would make the man think otherwise, even if he did feel he could trust the other.

Akihiko grinned. "I have all the time in the world, Misaki. Why don't you go change? In truth, I don't have a preference for what you wear; so long as you bring yourself, I will be happy," he crooned.

This notion caused the youth to blush like mad and he nodded his head slightly. He really wanted Haruhiko-san and his brother to get along and if he could somehow be the bridge needed to shorten the gap, he was willing to do anything.

"I-I'll be right back, your highness," he bowed gracefully and then shot out of the area as quickly as possible.

 

**. . . . .**

After a time, Misaki re-entered the living room, now more suitably attired for the prince's presence in a nice shirt and trousers that were just short of the kind you wore with a suit. He had had to stop himself from finding a tie to add on to the outfit; that was probably over the top, and besides, if Misaki were honest with himself, he wasn't that great at tying ties, anyway.

Akihiko hadn't seemed to have minded either way how Misaki dressed, but he felt it was only proper to at least make an effort to look nice if they were going to spend a few hours together. So he had hurriedly changed his clothes for the town, ran a comb through his hair, and given himself a once over before rejoining Akihiko. The other was looking at him with a smile, so he took that as approval; that he looked decent enough to suffice.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, your highness," he kowtowed, breath slightly caught up by his rushing around to keep the wait minimal.

"No need to apologize," Akihiko responded affably, standing from where he had claimed a place on the sofa. "You look rather... ready to go."

A slight curvature of the lips was the only vestige of the royal's inner opinions; there were many other adjectives that suited Misaki's appearance more, but he would keep it tame for the time being. Such a sweet and delicate person, Akihiko would not go about wooing any other way than with the utmost care.

"Shall we be going then?"

Misaki nodded, and they subsequently left together, heading for outside where the car would be waiting.

 

**. . . . .**

Their destination was only about a ten minute's drive away to another part of the capitol, and, to Misaki's surprise, it hadn't been a chauffeured car that had brought them there.

Instead, the prince had slipped into the driver's seat of a very shiny red car, Misaki the passenger side, and they had come that way.

It was a nice change of pace from being stuck in the back while someone else took the reins; and they'd maintained a general conversation the whole time there. Misaki was finding out that Akihiko wasn't really as intimidating as he had assessed him to be in the beginning of their acquaintance.

In fact the man was turning out to be very charming indeed!

After all, how could one explain the prince taking time out of his busy schedule just to reach out to Misaki and try to befriend him? Surely he had better things to be doing than to take the boy around to see sights, but nonetheless he did so.

Misaki appreciated the overture, given that if he could choose, he would have liked all of them to have better relationships. It was strange to see two brothers who were so distant as Akihiko and Haruhiko, given Misaki's own upbringing. He had been taught that family was all you had to rely on in this world, and so to spurn them was borderline unnatural.

Eventually, closer to the destination, the conversation died down, and the lack of it in the car started to make Misaki feel rather uncomfortable, so he quickly went through a list of things that would be appropriate to talk about. Thus far it had been Akihiko who had led the talk, and Misaki decided that it would be good if he could contribute a little by himself.

First there was the weather, but that was such a boring topic and it only seemed to work well in old fashioned type of conversation. Then there was the prince's job, but he realized he didn't really know much about what the prince was supposed to do, so he could end up looking rather dim-witted. He could always ask, though.

A third option seemed a little safer at first because he knew the prince had been friends with his brother, but then his brother had gone out and married someone else. Misaki didn't want to risk making Akihiko sad, like he had been on that night. The brunette hoped never to be party to such depression ever again. He would much rather the older man be happy, so that idea went out the window too.

Finally Misaki settled on asking about the car.

"What type of car is this, your highness?" he asked as he studied the leather interior of the vehicle. He'd never been in such a fancy ride before.

Akihiko laughed at the question, knowing full well that the kid had probably been searching for a topic of conversation. He hadn't been expecting it to be about the car. He couldn't care less about the thing himself, so he decided to change the topic. No reason continuing something so unappealing when he had other things on his mind.

"You may call me Akihiko-sama, if you like."

"Oh no, your highness, that would be way too informal for me to call you!"

"What about Usagi? Takahiro calls me by that name." He looked pointedly at Misaki, as if to say that it was really fine.

"I... I guess if... Nii-chan does... but I think maybe Usagi-san... at least... would be better."

"Usagi-san..." Akihiko turned the appellation over once or twice aloud, and then inclined his chin, thereby approving of it for his mantle.

"Yes, that will be perfect."

Though it did not match with the name he had envisioned in his recent dreams, Akihiko couldn't help but think that it suited Misaki to call him by it. It was a saccharine sort of calling, and Misaki was, of course, quite ambrosial himself, so he would allow this designation instead of the other. The situation reminded him rather of how at times, characters and plot lines in his stories, though he had the best intention of keeping them one way, oft did change by the end of the writing, generally for the better.

In any case, it was an improvement in that it was a more intimate term of address than previously.

After the drive, Misaki was surprised to find that the place the prince had driven him to was none other than the carnival that resided in the western district of the capitol. The park had first been constructed nearly a hundred years prior, and was open all year round. Despite those facts, Misaki had never actually had a chance to come here, and, as such, he was rather curious about what lay inside. Did Akihiko somehow know he had always wanted to explore it?

He was thinking about what rides he wanted to go on the most, and they were walking through the front gate when, embarrassingly enough, his stomach let out a rumbling growl, which stopped him right in his tracks. Misaki's face colored up like a strawberry; what a thing to do!

Akihiko grinned down at the boy when he heard the tell-tale sign, subsequently offering, "Shall we get something to eat first?"

Still in indignation with his physical reactions, Misaki nodded. He also explained, "I'm sorry Usagi-san; I may have been cooking today but I didn't stop to eat anything for lunch. I was a little distracted, then."

Akihiko let out a slight chortle before linking arms with the younger man. "Then I suggest we start at the food counter. I am a little hungry myself and could do with a light snack before getting on the rides."

Misaki nodded in embarrassment.

It was bad enough to show such a vulgar display in front of the prince, yet alone his future brother-in-law; the fact that he would now need to choose food in front of the man made him feel uneasy. What if the prince eyed his choices in an unpleasant manner? Was there some sort of food that wouldn't make him look like a peasant in front of the other? Then there was the whole idea that the prince was touching him, a sort of PDA. It was enough to make Misaki's head spin.

The prince could see the slight turmoil in the young man's thoughts. He knew he was making the other on edge with his closeness, but he could feel a heat radiating from his conquest that ignited the spark in his heart all the more.

"Let me let you in on a little secret, Misaki," he purred into the other's ear, causing Misaki to straighten up and blush further, which in turn caused the prince to smile. "You don't have to be on edge around me. I am a man, same as you. Think of me not as the prince, but as a human being."

"I-I'm sorry, Usagi-san, I just feel a little strange today," Misaki answered truthfully.

Akihiko nodded. He could feel himself growing all the more fond of the boy with each step they took. In his heart he knew that the one beside him was meant to be with him forever. It was almost as if fate had brought them together.

With the stiff manner in which the younger was walking beside him, Akihiko surmised that the cast of their thoughts had to be similar. Was Misaki feeling the same anticipation that he was, the desire that pounded through his heart and mind in unison?

He wanted to reach out to the other, who had shown him such kindness up until now. That spirit was not something the prince had ever experienced before; everyone kept their distance from him, for reasons of class, or, in his family's case, distaste. Perhaps it was strange to have fallen so hard, so quick, but Akihiko was not one to stew and mull over the stark facts. He cared more for the realization that Misaki was who he wanted, and the possibility of making the boy his very own.

Akihiko edged ever closer, snaking his hand downward and gently brushing his fingers against the side of Misaki's hand as they walked, a soft smile progressing onto his face. The younger man didn't seem to notice, or it could be that it did not bother him any, as he did not shy away, continuing down the avenue with the royal with not a single word peeping from his lips.

Misaki almost jumped at the tingling sensation he felt in the tips of his fingers where the elder brushed against him. He felt both comfortable and uncomfortable in the current situation. Comfortable in the fact that it didn't feel wrong to have the prince's hand so close to his. Uncomfortable in the fact that he didn't want to offend the other if he tried to push away. Instead, he decided to not make a move since there were people gaping at them and he felt safe being in the prince's shadow.

 

**. . . . .**

Before he even knew it, one hour had passed, then two, then more. It had started to grow dark, the heavens lit with the last of the dying orange sunset streaked with red as dusk fell. It wasn't until this obvious change in their surroundings occurred that Misaki realized how long they had been combing the carnival together, and he had been surprised to think about it. Though, there was the old adage, 'time flies when you're having fun.'

Apart from some slight anxiety in the beginning, the afternoon had worn on in pleasant company.

They had eaten and then set off to test out some of the rides the park housed, even an old wooden roller-coaster that had made Misaki's heart jump into his lap when the car angled down for the steep drop. That was where his companion had shined. Usagi-san had taken one of his hands into his own and squeezed it for the duration of the scare. Rather than making him feel odd, the gesture Misaki now accepted with some relief. His stomach hadn't lurched so much around the next bend of the track with the physical reminder that Akihiko was sitting right beside him, and nothing bad could happen to him.

Their last stop of the night, or so the youth assumed given the late hour, was the open-air Ferris Wheel that towered upward in the center of the carnival. When they had boarded, few to almost no other passengers had gotten on with them, so the operator had slowed down the normal speed of the conveyance, lending plenty of time to soak in the experience.

Misaki looked off at the view, wrapping his arms around himself in an effort to battle some of the chill in the early evening air. It truly was a beautiful panorama, and he was glad that he had gotten the opportunity to see this. The Ferris wheel had them so high up in the sky that the angle at which they saw everything was a rare one, and he was grateful to Akihiko for bringing him up to see it; the man was right, you really _could_ see everything from miles around, here!

The only sounds were the breeze whooshing on by, and the tinny creak of the carriage as it slowly oscillated under their weight. Everything was at peace as they both looked out at the vantage.

"Here," a firm voice sounded, and the boy turned to gaze at his seat partner, who was trying to catch his attention.

Akihiko's violet eyes were soft and luminous as he looked on at the other, and he wondered how best to proceed, because all his thoughts were screaming to him to take action with such a perfect opportunity as this one.

Misaki was right in front of him; in fact they were the only ones around at this junction, and the way the younger man was currently curled in on himself struck the royal as adorable, the act of trying to glean some warmth sending a spark of heat careening even through Akihiko's heart.

He held out his jacket to Misaki, hoping that that might keep the other more comfortable. Misaki looked on at him as if he were being odd, and then said, quietly, "It's okay, Usagi-san, you keep it. I wouldn't want you to be cold."

Akihiko wondered how a person could say such a thing when they were so obviously chilled themself. Perhaps it was in Misaki's personality not to want to impose on others, but common sense dictated that if one did not want to become ill, they should take care to stay warm and bundle up. Aside from that, he secretly enjoyed the idea of the other being cloaked in his garb; it was a subtle indicator of possession after all.

He decided to take the initiative, wrapping the coat around the youth's shoulders despite his protests. The inside was lined with velvety soft material, and the exterior heavy to stave off the wind. It was a bit big on Misaki, but that was for the better. The fabric draped over him like an overlarge robe, and the other could finally unhook his arms, casting his eyes downward as Akihiko smoothed down the jacket, making sure it was covering Misaki fully.

The brunette could feel his hands moving over his shoulders, and something in the sensation urged heat to shoot up into his cheeks, the light skin blooming with pink as the seconds dragged on. It was a great deal warmer with the older man's jacket on, though Misaki couldn't say why he had such a reaction to a simple act like the one taking place. There wasn't anything... weird about it, right? No reason to get flustered, surely.

Akihiko leaned in once he felt satisfied in his handiwork, inquiring, "Better?" silkily into the boy's ear. Seeing Misaki light up like that when he put his hands on him, even in an innocent way, emboldened the prince to dream that, soon, he might have an idea of just what areas that flush could extend to. Next to the erotic imaginings, this evening was only really confirming it for him; that comfort he felt while in the younger's presence. It was so unnatural for him to take to anyone, and so quickly, but that just spelled out how special Misaki truly was.

He made a vow in that moment to do what he could to bring himself and Misaki together as one. Everything that lay in their path wouldn't be an issue; he was the prince after all. The only thing the royal wanted in that moment was to make Misaki his; body and soul and heart.

Misaki, for his part, could feel something inside of him stir at the sensations the other man invoked. This brought on more confusion and he didn't quite know what to think. Time would make his thoughts become clearer, or so he hoped. What he knew in that moment was he felt at ease near his future family and if that was able to bring the brothers closer to one another, he was willing to let his unease fester a little while longer.

 

**. . . . .**

The gate was already open at Haruhiko's house when the prince drove through it and into the large courtyard that served as parking area. He could spot his brother's car closer to the stairs leading up to the front door, and though he didn't wish to ruin his pleasant evening with the nuisance of running into the man, he would need to do so. Misaki was fast asleep in the passenger seat, and he had to get the boy safely inside somehow, as his escort.

The one in question had his head cocked to the side, cheek resting on one of his shoulders, eyes contentedly shut as he slumbered. Misaki was still wrapped in his jacket; the prince supposed the warmth of that as a cocoon was what had lulled the brunette off to his dreams. One thing was certain; his scent would linger after he got the lucky article of clothing back, and that was the boon that Akihiko could take away with him when he departed tonight.

Akihiko parked his automobile two widths away from his sibling's space, and then unhooked both he and Misaki's seat-belts before springing himself loose from the driving cabin. He walked around the car and opened the other side's door, narrowing his brow as he tried to make the decision: how best to transport the boy? He was pondering that question diligently when an angry voice jerked him right out of the reverie and into unappealing reality.

"Where have you been keeping him, Akihiko?"

It seemed that he would have to deal with his older brother sooner than expected. The man had just slipped out the front door of the house, almost as if he had been waiting for their arrival. With any luck the servants had mentioned to him that Akihiko had come by the house earlier, and that was the explanation for his being accosted such. Being that he was on the other's territory, he decided to try and keep a cool head as best he could. No sense in picking unnecessary fights and letting his chances slip away before he had even begun to win Misaki's heart in earnest.

"We visited the carnival together, that's all. And now I'm bringing him back." 'Not _home_ , but back,' Akihiko mused inwardly.

Haruhiko seemed unsatisfied with the response, given the brusque manner in which he insinuated himself on the passenger side of the car. Akihiko stepped back, one hand clenching on the door of his vehicle, watching as his Misaki was scooped up by the other man into a carrying hold.

Truly this was trying his patience; he wanted nothing more than to have driven the boy home to his own royal apartments, and to have never let him come back here at all. Perhaps next time, he would do just that. Misaki's responses tonight said to Akihiko that with proper encouragement, he could urge the other to return his affections. For all he knew, Misaki wasn't even enamored of his sibling at all, and was just going with the flow of life. That wouldn't surprise the prince.

"Akihiko, don't do this." The elder brother's voice was stern, but shook all the same. Akihiko gathered the reason was that, even if he had wanted to, Haruhiko couldn't actually _command_ him to do anything. Not with the difference in their positions. It was one variable that he could play to his advantage if need be.

As things stood, he didn't bother replying to the entreaty, and prepared to depart. He hated seeing the other laying a hand on what should be his, and besides, Haruhiko wouldn't like what he had to say if he had spoken his true mind.

One thing was certain. This dispute was far from over.

 

* * *

 

**. . . Egoist . . .  
**

(August 28th, 2012)

* * *

 

"Hiro-san!' Nowaki called as he bounded into the other's house.

Hiroki looked up from his book and glowered at the light radiating behind the beast who stood in his door like some sort of fallen angel come to save him. How the man could possibly convey such goodness was beyond even his literary mind. So instead of talking, grunting, or using his vocals for any sort of communication he just nodded and indicated the sofa across from the chair he occupied.

The young doctor trotted into the room and sat down with a goofy grin on his face. He'd just been given tickets to see an art exhibition and he'd wanted to take the man who sat in front of him. Nothing would be better than being somewhere, anywhere with Hiro-san. Before the exhibition he'd even gotten reservations at his favorite restaurant. The idea of eating out with the man and having him to himself for a whole night was enough to drive Nowaki's hormones wild with excitement.

"Hiro-san, what are you doing for the rest of the evening? I know it's kind of late, but I was able to get tickets to the literary art exhibition in town and I thought you might like to go."

The professor didn't know what to say. Only two tickets had been given to the university and they'd gone to Miyagi, so he hadn't been able to get any. Even though he'd been rather displeased at not being able to attend, he didn't try and change the outcome of where said tickets had ended up. Instead he'd chosen to sulk for about half a second and then find something else to occupy his time with. Then, here came the mountain known as Nowaki, complete with two tickets. How on earth had the brat been able to snag them?

"I...uh," Kamijou stuttered.

Nowaki laughed. "You are as articulate as usual, I see. Does this mean you'll go with me?"

Hiroki glared at the insubordinate comment, eyed the other to gauge sincerity, and then nodded slightly. Who was he to turn down this opportunity?

"Good, I have reservations at Green Cross in an hour, so you'd better get dressed so we aren't late," Nowaki chirped as he took his bag off his shoulder and walked to the bathroom for a quick shower and a change. Before he could quite close the door though, the other male stopped him on the fast track to getting ready by opening his mouth to ask a further question.

Sienna eyes were quizzically narrowed as he inquired, "Wait, I said I'd go to the art show, what's with dinner?"

Nowaki smiled softly in a way that Hiroki was none too fond of, as if he knew something the other didn't. "I'd have thought that was obvious, Hiro-san."

With those words the man disappeared into the professor's bathroom, leaving said professor in a discombobulated state, sitting in his favored chair.

What did the kid think this was, a _date_? Hiroki shook his head and sighed. That boy had so many things going around in his head in a perpetual swirl that it was amazing he'd managed to get into medical school and do so well. Still, he was grateful to have met the other since he'd helped him overcome some pretty big issues. Not that he'd ever admitted that to the person in question. Kamijou didn't feel he owed it to the man, but more that he owed it to himself because for some reason, when Nowaki was happy, he was rather happy himself.

 

**. . . . .**

Hiroki hated to admit it, but dinner was actually something he ended up enjoying. The two had been seated in a rather secluded place, which was rather a surprise since the restaurant was rather difficult to get a good seat in anyway. They ended up being right behind a big potted plant and the wall, toward the rear of the establishment. They were far enough away from the kitchen so as not to be disturbed and Hiroki was happy to see that there were no children in the vicinity since the small things tended to grate on his nerves.

Their conversation had been mainly about what it had been like growing up, on both sides. Hiroki had explained what it was like having the prince stay with him when they were kids and Nowaki had explained his desire to make something of himself, even at an early age. All in all, the conversation had been rather pleasant.

Then the food arrived and it started to get a little... strange. During the third bite of food, Hiroki noticed that the big idiot sitting across from him was smiling and watching him eat. It wasn't the first time that had happened since they had known each other, but they were in public for crying out loud!

"Nowaki, why in god's name are you watching me eat and letting your food get cold?" he snapped, annoyed.

"You are cute when you eat," Nowaki replied, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Hiroki blushed and grumbled into his plate. That kid had some sort of fetish, he just had to. No normal person would behave like this, surely. "Watching me eat won't put any more meat on your bones, now eat before you miss out and have to pay for something that ends up going to waste."

"Yes, Hiro-san," Nowaki acquiesced, with a giggle.

The remainder of the eating portion of the dinner itself was spent eating and sporadic conversations about the food itself. Hiroki found that, while he was highly embarrassed that the other would find him cute when he was eating, he did enjoy spending time with the man.

 

**. . . . .**

Nowaki was in awe, standing in front of dozens of the most breathtaking art pieces he'd ever been witness to. Hiro-san seemed to be in his element; pamphlet out and reading through the descriptions of each display like he were narrating a story. Nowaki loved the sound of Hiro-san's voice and was more than happy to let the other man drone on, as each intonation and inflection was like music to the younger man's ear. How happy he would be if he could just bottle that voice up and keep it near his heart all the time. Of course, what he really wanted was the entire man, not just his voice.

"This piece was created using acrylic paints and dusted with powder as it was drying to give it the gravely look," Hiroki explained. "The picture depicts the eruption of Pompeii and the death that ensued following the cataclysm."

The doctor just nodded and smiled as Hiro-san continued on narrating piece after piece. Even though, to the untrained ear, it wouldn't sound as if the other man were enjoying himself, Nowaki could tell the professor was bursting at the seams to be among all of the literature turned into art. And he was the one to do that for his Hiro-san. Nothing could ever make him happier than knowing he'd been the one to cause that excitement.

"Nowaki, do you know what this is?" Hiroki asked in awe of the next piece.

Nowaki looked at the piece for a moment before his eyes shot open. It was Momotaro*, brought to life in 3D no less. This had been one of his and Hiroki's favorite stories as a child. When he'd found out that his copy of the book was the exact same copy that Hiro-san owned it had made him feel that much closer to the man.

"I cannot believe how incredibly this piece captures him," Nowaki said with the goofiest grin imaginable. "It's almost like I could reach my hand into the painting and feel the fuzz on that giant peach!"

The younger man raised his hand at the same time as the elder, and, for a brief moment, their fingers grazed and he could feel the spark of something ignite deep within him. Just the feel of the other's skin was enough to make his heart dance in his chest and his eyes fog over. He looked at Hiro-san and saw the confused look on the older man's face.

"Sorry, Hiro-san. I think the memories this story brings ended up hitting me somewhere." It wasn't a complete lie. He also felt very fulfilled to know that he and Hiro-san had been able to see their favorite childhood story brought to life.

"Are you okay, do we need to visit the doctor?" Hiroki questioned, worried.

"No, I'm okay. Maybe I just need to sit down for a while."

Without even realizing what he was doing, Hiroki linked arms with the taller man and escorted him to the side of the room where two seats were vacant. They sat down together there and watched the passersby.

"You know, Hiro-san," Nowaki interjected, breathlessly. "The fact that I could share this evening with you has made me the happiest man on earth."

Hiroki blushed twenty-nine shades of red when that comment was delivered. "You're an idiot."

"Yes, Hiro-san, you're correct as always."

 

**. . . . .**

Once Nowaki felt up to it, the two had continued on their date and eventually hit all of the pieces.

Each moment spent with the other had made him feel as if he were walking on cotton balls. He could feel himself sinking further and further into the abyss known as infatuation. Nowaki didn't want to call it that anymore, though, he wanted to call it love. There was simply no denying it anymore; he was in love with Hiro-san and that love was never going away, not even if he lived to be a hundred.

It surprised him that he was able to escort the man back to his place without initiating any sort of touch. Deep within his heart, Nowaki was hoping that Hiro-san would start to feel something different about him as well. That hadn't happened yet because the man just had no inclination to change their relationship.

As they walked the last few steps toward the brown-haired professor's house, Nowaki made a decision. Hiro-san was going to be his, but in order to secure one tsundere professor he needed to act. Going along with the other's lax attitude wasn't going to get them anywhere.

So when the shorter man tried to open the door, Nowaki felt his hand reach out and grab Hiroki's.

"Nowaki?" Hiroki asked, perplexed.

"Hiro-san, I..."

He couldn't get it out before he leaned in and captured the surprised professor's lips with his own. For a fraction of a second he thought the other would push him away and smack him upside the head. Nowaki got lightheaded as he felt Hiro-san, his Hiro-san, respond to the kiss rather than push away. In that instant it was as if everything clicked perfectly into place, sending a thrill coursing down his spine. It was only for a brief moment, but that response was more than enough for him, and, eventually, he pulled away, even while his brain was shouting at him to continue.

"Uh...Nowaki..?" Hiroki asked, dumbly, without even finishing the question. "I've got to go," he eventually got out as he opened his door and jumped inside before shutting the door and leaning against it.

Hiroki could feel his heart beating in his chest as he tried to control his breathing. He had no idea that Nowaki was doing the very same thing on the other side of the door.

**.**

**.**

**END CHAPTER.**


	11. Domestica No Baai

 

  
**(** May 31st, 2012 **)**

* * *

 

Chiaki's bright blue eyes widened with recognition as he saw the crisp, murky blue yukata hanging on the screen that divided off the changing area of his closet.

The garment had first belonged to his grandfather, Yoshino Daichi; he could vividly remember the man wearing it at festival time, leading the celebration for their family. It brought swirling back a pleasant stream of memories of being sat on his grand-sire's lap to watch the fireworks. He always answered any of Chiaki's endless questions, and it was also his grandfather who had first encouraged the boy in drawing.

He walked closer, fingering the smooth silk of the construction, smiling absently as he recalled all of those things.

It was nice to get it passed down to him, and Chiaki supposed his father had been holding back on it until this important day. Today he was expected to meet with many other young nobles, and by sundown, his parents wanted him to pick one to marry. It would be completely his decision who, but the time limit was the sole restriction placed on him. Chiaki, though a bit disinterested with the idea, actually didn't mind too much.

His mother had been harping on for the past few years about how he had never settled down and found a nice partner to grow old with, and to give her grandchildren.

This talk all seemed to ignore the fact that Chiaki had a younger sister who surely was perfectly capable of doing those things, but then, he didn't want to place that burden all on Chinatsu's shoulders. That wouldn't be fair, and if he had nothing against it, why would he refuse? So, he didn't, and he let their mother have her way and plan this day of meetings to find him a spouse.

The more Chiaki ruminated on it, it might be nice in the end, to have someone to live with, to lean on, and even to have a family with. It was hard to envision himself as a parent, but he liked children okay, he thought, so it would work out one way or another.

Actually he was probably pretty lucky to have parents that let him pick the person he would marry. Some families wouldn't allow even that, contracting arranged betrothals even while their sons and daughters were still minors. Chiaki was turning twenty-seven this autumn and they were only now asking him to make a commitment, after nine years of legal adulthood.

He was confident everything would work out in the end, and even if the marriage he entered into did not end up in full-blown love, it might turn out to be like his parents', where they had grown to be cordial, friends even after the years together, and the children they had. If all else failed, he supposed divorce was an option, but not one that had been exercised in recent family history.

One hallmark of their family was that no matter if it was arranged or not, the Yoshinos that married tended to have positive home lives; nothing to separate over. Luck was on his side, Chiaki felt. He already had a good life now so this new addition could only enhance it more.

He moved to get dressed, keeping an open mind and cheerfully contemplating the many types of people he might encounter today.

 

* * *

The meetings, or interviews, as Chiaki's mother had dubbed them, were all taking place in one of the private salons in the main house of their estate. It was just he and the other person in the room; his parents had declined to sit on them to allow him the freedom, presumably, to ask any questions that he might need to make his ultimate decision.

There had been ten choices assembled, and, to Chiaki's mild surprise, they were equally divided in number by gender. He wondered why his parents made it that way, but when he had asked, his mother had informed him that since he had shown no romantic inclinations toward anyone before, they had been uncertain of what orientation he was. That was kind of a shock to hear. Though when he considered it, Chiaki couldn't blame them. He really hadn't dated, so they had nothing to base their selection of suitors off of.

 

* * *

The first candidate was an older gentleman who came in to meet with him, sporting a three-piece suit and thick-rimmed glasses by the name of Ueda. He had an unassuming countenance and jet black hair that was closely cropped. From how respectable the man looked, Chiaki could only guess that he had been scouted by his father, for which he was thankful. His mother on the other hand, had a very different idea of what was suitable, preferring those of a more vibrant nature.

As soon as he was seated at the low table in the room, Ueda-san gingerly removed his glasses, beginning to clean them off with a small cloth produced from his suit pocket. Chiaki waited patiently for the man to finish this task, eyes darting over him to take his measure.

So far, even though he was a guy, he didn't seem so bad. The more Chiaki gave it thought, if the nicest person he met today was male, that wouldn't bother him so much. He didn't really classify himself as leaning that way, but it was all right because marriages in the higher classes normally ended up more as alliances and friendships than true love. The latter was a feeling that unfortunately probably only existed in the manga Chiaki drew.

"I am not really sure what to ask!" Chiaki admitted, laughing a little to himself. It was true; what were you supposed to ask people at these sorts of things? It was kind of awkward to begin with. "But maybe you could tell me about yourself?"

"Ueda Tsubasa, thirty-eight. I work as one of the curators at the national history museum. I follow politics, also."

Chiaki smiled politely. He couldn't really claim they had similar interests, but then again, where was he going to conveniently find someone who knew a lot about manga out of this tiny batch of suitors? Being different wasn't the end of the world, and he shouldn't expect aligning interests out of a person like Ueda-san, who, after all, was several years older than he was.

If anything, this experience taught him that he had little idea of what he was looking for in a mate.

 

* * *

After the mildness of Ueda-san came an avalanche of personality in the form of the second candidate, Fuyuba-san.

Fuyuba-san had long, curly hair of a strawberry blond shade, and emerald eyes. In addition to that bright natural coloring, the clothes he wore were similarly ostentatious - deep purple trousers and a yellow button up shirt that had the first few fasteners undone, hinting at some sort of pink undershirt.

Compared to the man, Chiaki felt rather conservative, sitting there wearing his grandfather's yukata. Fuyuba's smile was wide and inviting though, and, so, despite his unorthodox wardrobe, the interview got off to a successful start.

"Nice to meet you, Yoshino-sama!" Takao exclaimed peppily, plopping himself right next to Chiaki on one side of the low table. "I'll call you what you like, but you can call me Kao-chan, thank you very much!"

"N-Nice to meet you too, Kao-chan," Chiaki attempted as a greeting, although, truth be told, he was feeling anxious, his pulse pounding erratically as the newcomer made himself very comfortable at Chiaki's side. There was just something a little too... effusive, perhaps, about Fuyuba-san, and Chiaki wasn't sure if that was something he could entirely deal with. He wasn't used to very many people being in his life to begin with, and none of them were this flashy.

"So, what's a cutie like you doing holing up here in this old house? Why haven't I met you before, Yoshino-sama?" Takao had gone for a cup of tea, and he took a dainty sip of it as he waited for an answer.

Chiaki blushed under the scrutiny, offering only, "I-I don't know why."

"Look, Yoshino-sama, I want to get right to the point. If you and I get married, you're really getting more for your money. I'm a twin, you see, and I and my brother Ranmaru are, well, we're quite the set."

Fuyuba-san latched an arm around his shoulders intimately, continuing to expound as far as his qualifications. "Marry us and you'll never want for attention, because we can cater to your every need, more than one person alone could ever hope to do." His eyes gleamed in a playful fashion as he ended off the speech with a flourish.

Chiaki quickly reached for his own tea, pressing it to his mouth hurriedly and began to take a leisurely sip. For some reason he felt like things were about to get weird, not that they weren't approaching that designation already.

"Oh, and don't worry about _that_ , ok? We're not particular about how you want to do it."

The blond patted Chiaki's shoulder blade colloquially as if the man had any idea of what he was saying. Honestly, Chiaki wasn't sure what that meant, and also wasn't sure he wanted to know. Did Fuyuba-san mean how the plans for their wedding, if he married him, would proceed? Chiaki didn't think that was what Takao was talking about, but it was the only safe conclusion.

"I'll keep that in mind," he answered evenly.

 

* * *

Dealing with such polar opposites was eye-opening for Chiaki, but he was glad that the next few suitors were of a more average disposition, and by that fact alone they jumped up the list of possibilities. The more he went through the interviews, the more Chiaki came to think that what he was really shopping for was a friend. He just didn't believe in love at first sight as much as he had thought he did in the beginning. Love seemed more like a thing to be nurtured over time, and, given he was seeing only strangers, he couldn't have formed those feelings on the spot. By picking a friendly person, then perhaps that relationship could develop into more after their marriage. That was his hope.

The fifth, or intermediate, candidate that came to see him was a younger girl by the name of Suzuki Tomoe-chan. She had a fresh-faced, sweet appearance to her, and for that reason alone Chiaki smiled when she arrived. In fact, he preliminarily thought he had found someone he could get along with, until he realized two things.

Firstly, when she introduced herself, Tomoe ended up being the same age as Chiaki's sister. Something about that fact made him feel acutely uncomfortable, like he was robbing the cradle almost. He himself was a few years from thirty, while the girl was only two years out of high school.

It wasn't the worst age difference ever heard of, and certainly not strange in their world, but all the same, Chiaki wasn't ready to be significantly older than the person he wed. Preferably the person would be of a similar age to himself, or maybe a little older. At least, not seven years younger than him. That was too much in his opinion.

Other than age, the second factor that inevitably dashed all chances of their being together was Tomoe's reaction when he asked her the same question he had put to everyone else, to tell him about themselves so that he could have at least that much information to make a decision on.

She had opened her mouth as if to speak, but instead of words, a sudden onslaught of tears was triggered, shocking the artist right out of his relaxed mood.

"My parents made me come here!" Tomoe announced, following up with a, "Papa said I had to marry a nice boy from the right class, or he'd disown me! Yoshino-sama, what should I do? I love him, I really love him; it isn't just lust! But...b-ut I don't want to lose my baby brother, I won't get to see Keita-nii if..." she hiccuped, creating a sudden lull in the outburst.

"I..." Chiaki answered futilely, blushing, his neurons began firing faster as he tried to come up with a solution. "I'm sorry," he started off as a reflex, "but I don't really know what to do if that's how it is... I'm sorry, Tomoe-chan."

"You're so nice!" the girl wailed, hysterically, but somehow that did not set Chiaki at ease. "Oooh, I want to like you, but I don't!"

He was simply at a loss for words at that statement.

"I-I only want to marry Hayato-kun!" she sobbed woefully, throwing herself at Chiaki as if he could somehow be her fairy godmother and set everything aright.

Unfortunately for the girl, Chiaki could not, and didn't know what to do to comfort her in the mean time. Obviously, if she felt this way about another guy, then they wouldn't be getting married, but, well... what to say? Was there anything he _could_ say that would help? He'd never been in a situation like this one to know.

All this business went straight over his head. In fact, it was making him rather weary, nearly as weary as Tomoe-chan, but there were still another few appointments to go before he was done.

 

* * *

This woman - frankly - worried him.

Sitting across the table was candidate number ten, Himura Ryuuka-san, a mature socialite who Chiaki had found out was only a year and a half younger than he was. Rather like how the first suitor, Ueda-san had stuck out to him, he knew that this one was the choice of his mother. She was too flamboyant to be his father's pick, with a shock of long, auburn hair and glinting hazel eyes. The way she carried herself even seemed provocative, and secretly Chiaki had to wonder just what his mother was thinking about him if she imagined that this type of person and he would be compatible.

"You don't have to be shy, Yoshino-sama," Ryuuka purred, elegant fingers trailing up her abdomen and higher, "I won't peep a word if you want to 'try before you buy.'"

Chiaki laughed nervously, tugging at the neck of his robe as if to fan himself into normalcy. With the way her kimono hung dangerously loose on the body, not to mention the wording, he couldn't be ignorant of what she was suggesting.

Something in what Himura-san was saying sounded unnerving to him, but he couldn't very well ask her to leave; that would be rude. She was beautiful, that he could not argue, but it was the beauty of a carnivorous plant, wild, and an aesthetic that bore the risk of him getting bitten along the way. Definitely not something Chiaki was comfortable with, so he was waiting to find the right opportunity to nicely turn the younger woman down on her offer.

"Umm, I am really sorry, Himura-san, but I..."

The girl's roaming fingertips came to a swift halt at his interjection. She eyed him shrewdly.

"If you're gay, or asexual, or whatever, I don't care. We can work it out anyway."

Chiaki's eyes popped wide open, and he continued on in an uneasy stammer, "I am really sorry, but..."

"Yeah, yeah, you're sorry, I get it, but consider my offer, okay? We can join together for one kid then go our separate ways. It's a more common arrangement than you'd think."

Her whole voice had altered. The sensuous strains of before were now dull and deep, as if she had been putting on an act the entire time. Chiaki, when you got right down to it, was horribly at a loss for what he should say. Thus, it was a relief when Himura-san started to clamber back on her feet and head for the door.

She was certainly one of the more eventful candidates of the day, and the final one, to Chiaki's consummate relief. When he counted and figured out that all ten options had been exhausted, he was fully ready to relax and try to get his thoughts cleared up enough to make a decision.

No one particularly stood out, he supposed, but if this was as important to his parents as they claimed it was, he would do his best.

 

* * *

After everyone had been shuffled off for the day, Chiaki returned to the same salon for a bit of solitude, bewildered as to how to sort out the various options. How were you supposed to just know who you wanted to make such a huge commitment to? How did his parents ever settle on each other, he wondered, because they too had come together with an arranged marriage, just like both sets of his grandparents, and probably his great-grandparents before then. Was there supposed to be a gut feeling you had when you saw that person? A warmth, or heart pounding, or butterflies in the stomach, like attraction was hinted at in manga?

At this rate he'd be rolling the dice to determine his future spouse.

As if beckoned for, the heavens opened and his thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of someone to the room he was inhabiting. Someone who could help him decide once and for all, because that person knew Chiaki well enough to intervene in the decision making process.

When he saw that it wasn't another suitor and just Tori, Chiaki was able to breathe again. It was really taking a toll on him now, and he was realizing how stressed out the whole day had made him without his really noticing earlier. He immediately walked over to greet his friend, happy to see a familiar face after so many strange characters as he'd had to meet with this afternoon. Tori really was the perfect person to have shown up at this time.

The man was dressed up even more than was usual, and Chiaki just had to comment, inquiring, "You're wearing a suit, Tori, was there something special going on at work today?" Normally the only time that he saw the guy wearing such spiffy attire was at one of the company holiday parties Hatori sometimes forced him to go to with him.

The answer to that, if you could pry it from Hatori's mind was - not quite. In truth there was a special event that he had dressed for, but he was already at it now.

He dropped that line of conversation with a non-committal look, starting with, "Yoshino, how have things proceeded with your meetings this afternoon?" Hatori eyed the other male warily, searching for some give away to tell him if he had chosen to find his courage too late in the game.

Chiaki summarily blinked. Of course Tori would ask that, after all your best friend getting married is sort of a big deal news item. Now he could ask for input!

"I saw a lot of people, but I am not really sure who's the best," he answered, "I was hoping actually that maybe you and I could run through them, and you can tell me what you think." He smiled brightly, adding on in a chirp, "Tori, you have to hurry up and get married when I do, okay? I want us to have kids at the same time so that they can grow up and be friends, too!"

Hatori grimaced at the sentiment, words flowing unknowingly from Chiaki's mouth with a tone of excitement behind them. Had the facts not stood as they did, he might have smiled, to hear the same request, to know that his friendship was so treasured that Chiaki would like their kids to have the same bond. It was a kind thing to say, and so very much like the man that his heart jumped a little in spite of everything else.

Was there no end to his affection, even when it impeded his interests?

All in all, he was _still_ anxious; scared half to death because of the reason why he had showed up this evening.

It felt so bold, after so many years of waiting, to make his feelings known, well, almost casually. As if to say, 'here they are, take them as you will.' What else could he do, though? If after twenty six years Chiaki didn't know - admittedly, he had seen to it that the man wouldn't - moving slowly in telling him wasn't correct either. And now, with this folly of his parents', Chiaki had a huge decision to make, and no time left to play around. No, Hatori knew this was his last, his _only_ chance, and so that's why he trudged on.

"Yoshino..."

Hatori cursed his silence after breaking off the statement. The words felt like they were sticking to his tongue again. He couldn't comprehend it - he had never had trouble discussing anything with Chiaki before. Was it just the subject that was stymieing him?

"I hope that our children will be friends."

"I know! That would be so awesome! They can play together, maybe even go to school in the same class like we did, and it'll be a lot of fun!"

Hatori swallowed, hard. ' _No, no, no_ ,' he thought, ' _I can't let this continue on without laying out my stance properly_.' He gathered up his courage, and gently reached out to place a hand on both of Chiaki's shoulders. By the move he captured the man's attention, Chiaki turning to look at him straight on with those big, blue eyes of his, calm as ever, but perhaps a bit confused by what was transpiring.

"What I mean, is that I hope they will be friends, but, I want our children to be... our children. As in you and I having them."

He paused, shell-shocked that he was able to say the words, but once uttered, they spilled out in a torrent.

"I understand that this may come as a surprise, and it may even be disgusting to you, but I feel that I owe enough to you to say it. I am in love with you, and I have been ever since I can remember knowing what love is. I came here today not to aide you in making your decision, but to offer up my own proposal for you to consider if you wish to entertain it. Marry me. I will always be a friend to you, but I suppose... I wanted you to know where I stand."

Chiaki wasn't moving a muscle.

He sat there, face blank, with an expression of neutrality or shock - Hatori wasn't sure which it was, or which he would rather it be. Neither boded especially well for his chances, but then again, what was he expecting? For Chiaki to fall at his feet vowing that his feelings were and had always been the same? It was a nice dream, but had little substance in reality. He would be lucky if their friendship remained in tact in the wake of this proposal of his.

Hatori removed his hands from the other's shoulders, letting them fall harmlessly to his sides. There was a gnawing quiet in the room, and all Hatori could hear was the wind rustling the trees just outside the window. He too, was stunned, victim to the weight of all the emotions he wished he could express better, and all the things that he wanted in his heart for Chiaki to feel in return. They were crushing. He could not seem to make them known.

Hatori swiftly made his decision.

He would rather leave with some dignity in tact, and to spare Chiaki the trouble of having to turn him away.

Perhaps it was pitiful that, even now, he wanted to make life easier for the man, but that was how deep his feelings for the artist ran. He himself was feeling the beginning strains of melancholy, so he could claim his own selfish reasons for wanting to vacate the premises before things got even more hopeless, before Chiaki's rejection became verbal.

Hatori wasn't certain that he could ever heal from hearing such a definite pronouncement. The sustaining fire of his ardor for many years had been the treasured delusion that there existed a slim possibility, a day when the other might return his affections.

He made to get up, trying in vain to erase the disappointment from his features, and was mentally preparing himself at the same time. However, as the course would run, he wasn't released so easily.

Fingers shot out and gripped at the sleeve of his shirt, as if to rein him back in. Hatori made a half turn, not convinced if there was a reason to stop his flight completely.

"I-I-I don't understand Tori, just don't leave!" Chiaki pleaded in a small voice.

He might be confused, but he wasn't unaware. It wasn't hard to decipher the crestfallen look on Hatori's face before he had tried to stand up, and seeing that hurt the mangaka's very soul. Hatori was the person he depended on in life for so many things, and it was scary to see him appear so vulnerable when that was the opposite of what Chiaki was used to observing.

Hatori gazed at the man before him. Just looking at this person made his heart quake with wanton desire. For years he'd held it in, but now it had just about spilled over like a pot of boiling water. He kept his face blank as he looked into the pleading eyes of his best friend; someone who was confused and didn't understand what he'd just laid out.

The look on the other's face was enough to make him realize that Chiaki was really confused. He was also looking a little startled, among other things. All he could do was reiterate the information and clarify that he understood what was said.

"I am asking you to marry me. Is that what is confusing to you?"

"Sort of," Chiaki answered honestly, finally releasing his grip now that he was sure Hatori wasn't going to bolt. "I just... Where in the world did this come from, Tori?"

The man deliberated on an answer for a while. It was obvious enough to him that because of his feelings, the natural next step in actions would be to ask to start a relationship with the other. Preferably, it would have been dating, but that didn't jive with Chiaki's parents' wishes at the moment. Because their son was getting older, and they were starting to want grandchildren, they had put out an ultimatum of marriage.

Hatori wasn't adverse to that, as if he had ever dated Chiaki, then hopefully they would have taken that step later on, but, with things as they were, he was left with only the hope that the other would accept him for this more lasting commitment and not shy away. He was comfortable with it, but it was Chiaki that was the wild card. If he were being logical, it was his fault for not have admitted to his feelings earlier. If he had had the courage to do so, they wouldn't be in such a strange bind now.

He sighed. There simply was no delicate way to go about it.

"I love you. That is why I ask."

Chiaki's expression went from worry to befuddlement as he considered the response. His hand toyed with the sleeve of his robe, probably to allay some of the extraneous emotion. Hatori could only wait for some sort of sign, once more. He wasn't aware of anything that he could say to make this easier to digest.

"I guess... I don't know what to do," the younger purported after a pause, "I don't understand what that feels like, so I can't relate or anything. But you are someone special to me, I know that. These other people; I don't know any of them from before today. I liked a few of them, but I don't know if what I thought is enough for me to choose them out of everyone. I just don't know what I feel."

"Yoshino, it's normal to meet people for the first time during these things," Hatori stated matter-of-factually, even though it didn't really help his cause.

Chiaki lowered his eyes as he tried to absorb everything he'd just been told. In all his life he'd never seen the man more serious than in that moment and frankly, it scared him.

Hatori didn't quite know where to proceed at this junction. He'd said what he'd come to say, been told to stay, and now could feel the thickness in the air like it was full of cigarette smoke. There was only one more thing he could think to try to put both of them at ease, or to fuck up the process entirely.

"May I kiss you, to see if you might feel the way that I do, Yoshino? You don't have to say yes."

"Uhm, s-sure," Chiaki squeaked quickly in reply, blushing a bit furiously even while he agreed to it.

It couldn't hurt anything, after all. Hatori was his friend, he probably owed him at least this much for all the man had done to take care of him over the years, so he didn't mind doing it.

Even so, his heart was beating fast as Tori moved closer, and he found warmth blossoming in his belly, wondering why it was all happening so fast, even if he knew it was actually progressing slow. It just felt that way, and the thoughts raced on through his mind without permission.

Hatori on the other hand was exactly as nervous, but he did comprehend the reasons why.

Seeing as this might be the only time he ever tasted the other's lips for himself, he vacillated on technique, not sure what was most appropriate. Should he keep it simple, so as not to frighten his ingenue further? Or should he take the opportunity to lavish a bit of pent-up adoration, comb his fingers through dark locks of hair and embrace the man while they kissed? Chiaki was so delicate, and as much as Hatori really wanted to showcase his love, he had to err on the side of caution with this one, even if that decision came back to haunt him later.

They were both already kneeling, and close enough to reach out and touch, that was done. He leaned in at as reserved a pace as he could hold himself to, hearing the old wooden floor creak with the redistribution of weight, a deafening sound in this otherwise silence.

More determinations were made as he approached the goal, Hatori's eyelids pulling down to block off the view, figuring that was the most innocuous of ways to go about it. He allowed himself only one hand on Chiaki's shoulder, to steady them both, and kept the other stowed firmly at his side, unmoving. Still, when he placed it there, he thought he heard a sudden quickening of breath from the other male.

Going slow like he was, Hatori was able to correct himself when he felt their noses bump, angling minutely so that they fit together the way they were intended. He saw small flashes of light behind closed lids as he blinked with surprise, already feeling Chiaki's lips grazing his. The younger tensed under his hand, probably also at the shock of their contact. For Hatori, once he recovered, he found it to be the sweetest moment of his life thus far. Chiaki's mouth was soft like he had imagined it to be, and sharing this intimacy with him felt right; it shored up his conviction that the man was the one his heart belonged to, for as long as time stretched on.

He would treasure the memory no matter the outcome of today.

After lingering enough to sustain a bit of the longing residing within him, Hatori gently moved back, coming to rest upright on his knees once more. His dull blue eyes opened to greet the room that might as well have been heaven on earth for what it had provided him the opportunity for.

Just a foot away, Chiaki was seeing again too, only where Hatori's fire had been tamed and neatly put under lock and key, he felt that his had only just progressed from fledgling spark to full blown flame. The artist's face was as vivid pink as ever, new sensations roiling within him and causing unease.

He wasn't sure how they all translated, only that he found himself wanting to try a second time, if only to search out the answers that he was lacking. With that ideal planted stubbornly in mind, Chiaki trudged forward with spirit, placing a hand on either side of the stoic man's face and bringing it back home to his own. Their lips met once more, firmer than the first, and a preliminary thrill crackled to life within Chiaki. He couldn't believe he had actually done it. He had had the thought and immediately acted on it. That was weird for him, but he didn't regret it, either.

He cradled the other's head in his hold, more barraging the man with a multitude of shy, smaller pecks than anything substantial. Any time he tried to keep still, to press his mouth invitingly against Hatori's, he lost the gumption to be so bold, so this was the best that he could do.

Hatori's arms surged forward, feeling that now was not the time to be a shrinking violet; he finally embraced Chiaki with a snug hold, loving the feel of the man's delicate hands on either of his cheeks. He had to marvel at the decision on Chiaki's part - it was the last thing that Hatori expected to occur, and the hope it inspired was almost painful to bear.

He increased the pressure of their kiss, manipulating it so that it was one lingering motion, feeling the other's lips lying against his own. Chiaki's hands dropped off moments later, gingerly embracing him in the same way, fingers resting at Hatori's shoulder blades and twitching slightly whenever his store of breath went low, as if to tell the man to relinquish him for a second to gain it back.

Encouraged by the sweet cooperation so far, Hatori took it a step further, slowly dragging his tongue against the seal of Chiaki's lips, hoping for that permission. Chiaki felt it and understood, but was a little antsy about how going there might feel. He parted his lips minimally at first, and then more, to allow himself to be broached.

"Hnnn," he uttered intelligently as he felt Hatori's tongue swipe over the top of his, leaving him with a curious sensation. The two muscles stroked together, Chiaki not one to sit still at a time like this. He could barely even entertain a thought in his mind other than surprise at all of this behavior, but his eyes peeked open for a moment, the urge to see overriding anything else.

When two sets of eyes met, Chiaki involuntarily moaned. The other was too close, staring at him with such an intensity that he could barely process it. His reactions therefore, couldn't be helped.

Chiaki dropped his hands, latching onto the front of the other's shirt instead, and tried in vain to block out the wet, tantalizing sounds of what they were doing. It was getting him to be a little excited, and for him, that was a new and somewhat scary disposition to have.

To say Hatori had gone to heaven would have been an understatement. Never in his wildest dreams, well maybe his wildest, but never in his normal dreams would he have thought the other would not only respond but take some initiative. Each breath, each pulse of the man he was kissing was sending him into a virtual head rush and he wondered if it was going to be possible to hold the two of them upright.

He didn't have to dwell on that subject long as he felt Chiaki start to buckle next to him. Immediately Hatori did what he could to support the slighter man and keep them both grounded. There was no way he'd be able to support himself in this state and Chiaki, so he knew he'd have to do something about getting them both to the floor.

Hatori slowly maneuvered himself to where he was completely supporting Yoshino because it would be easier if he was in control.

His love wasn't able to think much at that moment and was actually grateful for Tori's leadership in making sure they didn't crash to the ground. He could feel himself being lowered to his knees and then they stalled as both took a breath before continuing their mapping out of each other's mouths.

The feelings for Chiaki were different, special. He couldn't put his finger on it at that moment, but he really liked what was happening to his body. Hatori supported him the rest of the way to the floor, hand cradling the back of his head so that it didn't hit against the wooden surface.

Once situated on the floor, with Hatori surrounding him, he felt completely safe and at ease, like it was meant to be. He reached up and pulled Tori's face to his and resumed the kiss that had all but lit the lantern of love in his heart. Each movement the larger man made on him seemed to confirm something he'd always known but never thought about. He did love Tori, but had been too close to the situation to see it clearly.

The very idea of being with this man who had been by his side for the entirety of his life did something to Chiaki he didn't quite understand. Everything was so new to him, each feeling, each experience. All of them hit him square in the nether region and caused him to squirm in mild discomfort at the desire to do something more to relieve the feeling of wanting.

His thoughts projected a startling vision of them laying like this in bed, Hatori in between his legs and moving, smoothly picking away at all of him until there was nothing but a puddle of mush left. Chiaki could see the man's hands on his thighs, hoisting them up to ride closer against his chest, bending his frame in two. Rolling him over and then pushing his knees underneath him, bottom raised up in the air suggestively. Laying on their sides, similarly combined, hands roaming down his front while they rocked against one another. Heat flared up at every and all of these separate images, and, he was a little off in his own world at that point. On this plane, Chiaki tightened his grip on Hatori's shoulders, pulling him in closer as if to mimic his out of control dreams.

"Tori..." he exhaled quietly, unconsciously spreading his legs more and rolling his hips up to meet the other's, adrenaline thrumming through the background of all his senses. He was only half certain of what he was asking for in that moment, but he requested for it anyway.

"Well, I see you've made your decision."

That... was not good.

Chiaki sputtered for air, squirming on the ground and trying futilely to sit up for a moment before Hatori retreated to allow him the freedom of movement. He kept his eyes pointed directly at the floor, unable to look either of his parents in the eye at this time - it was too embarrassing, given what they had been caught at, and even the sensuality that had been rampant in his thoughts. If they hadn't walked in, Chiaki couldn't have been sure of the outcome. All he knew was that everything had felt good, if a bit... strange, and he had seriously been considering letting Hatori do what he would.

Speaking of that man, he was keeping awfully silent, and Chiaki shot him a look as if to ask for help in this matter. Hatori noticed it, but only offered as an explanation, "I proposed, but he never did say yes or no, so you will have to confirm that with your son."

Chiaki's face did not waver, but inside of his mind, chaos reigned. It was almost like being put on the spot, and he had never done well under pressure. He felt sweat bead at his temples, and the artist looked around the room searchingly, hoping that some words or sudden inspiration would occur to him. Mom was staring at him expectantly waiting for the answer, and Tori... Tori was...

He carefully peeked at his best friend, scanning him mostly out of the corner of his eye.

Tori had said that he loved him, and Chiaki could believe that easily enough, because if he thought about it, all the man had done while being by his side these years made him feel cared for. His own heart had thumped powerfully when the words left Hatori's mouth and traveled over him today, but Chiaki wasn't positive why that was. All he could really conclude was, out of all the choices he'd been presented with today, the only one that seemed right was to stay by his side.

"I-I will!" he blurted out, sudden, but earnest. "I want to be with Tori."

Hearing those words uttered from Chiaki's lips all but caused Hatori's heart to stop. Immediately the scene played over in his mind as he thought he hadn't heard it right. But the looks from both Yoshino and the man's parents were enough to make the editor realize that this dream was in fact a reality and that the mangaka was choosing him over anyone else. For a second that caused Hatori to black out slightly, but he righted himself before any embarrassment may have befallen him. It would not bode well to faint in front of the future in-laws, even if said individuals had known him since his conception.

Hatori didn't really get much of a chance to think anything else, and neither had Chiaki it seemed, who was flushed a brilliant shade of magenta. Within a few moments of his heat stopping, Yoshino's father made a small nod and pointed to the other room.

"We will wait in here until you two are decent," the man's smooth voice resonated throughout the room. "Then I expect to see you both in this room so we can discuss the arrangements."

When Chiaki didn't make a move to speak, Hatori took the initiative. "Okay, sir, we'll be in shortly."

Moments later both Hatori and Yoshino were alone again and feeling very turned on. Hatori wanted nothing more than to make love to his future husband right then and there, but the fact that there were people waiting for them meant he needed to be an adult and not a teenager anymore. The first thing he needed to do was verify he understood what was said. Even if he knew exactly what the smaller man had stated not three minutes prior, he wanted to hear it again.

"Yoshino?" he began, which caused the other to startle and look at him with doe eyes.

"Y-y-yes, Tori?" Chiaki, for his part, couldn't believe what had just transpired. Looking back on the prior half an hour made him realize how much the idea of being with Tori felt right. There was nothing he could say to himself to make him think otherwise, but he couldn't meet the other's gaze if his life depended on it.

"Are you sure, Yoshino? You don't look so convinced right now."

Chiaki just nodded his head, refusing to look at Hatori. While he was embarrassed beyond belief that he'd been caught in such a situation, he was more afraid of wanting to continue what had been going on before the interruption. By not looking at Tori, he was able to clear his head a little bit more.

Hatori lowered his head. "Yoshino, I don't want you to do anything you don't want to do, so if this isn't what you want, please tell me. I don't want to do something stupid."

The words made Chiaki's stomach tighten. He had known Hatori long enough to know that the other man felt he was indecisive. Chiaki wasn't always the most empathic person, but in that moment he could feel the fear radiating from Hatori and he knew if he didn't prove his thoughts it may have caused a rift he didn't want.

"I-I do mean what I said, Tori, I'm just scared of how much I-I mean it," he said softly, dejectedly.

 _Badump_. Hatori could feel his heart beat at the confession. It was now or never.

"I love you, Chiaki," he said, calmly. "That's not going to change, even if you are reluctant to jump right in. I've had years to deal with my feelings, you've had minutes. I can wait until you catch up with me."

Yoshino wanted to laugh, it sounded like something one of his female characters would say to the guy they were in love with.

There was no need for any further conversation as they stood up, together, and made their way to the other room to deal with the parents and the impending marriage.

 

 

* * *

**  
**

"Chiaki, straighten up! I know you have better posture than that!"

The aforenamed hadn't hardly even settled himself in the next room when the shrill rebuke came from his mother's lips, implanting a seed of annoyance within him. He reflexively obeyed though, raising up on his knees so that his back was up at the proper angle. And Mom wondered why he didn't live in the main house anymore, instead staying at one of the ancillary buildings at the edge of the sprawling family estate when he wasn't staying at an apartment in town. At times, her micro-managing could get to be a bit much.

As if sympathizing, Hatori's hand made its presence known, caressing the small of his back in a circular motion.

In the end it was the father that led the conversation where they hammered out the details. It was agreed upon that the ceremony would take place sometime before Chiaki's birthday in late September, the exact date to be coordinated with their work schedules later. Chiaki would take Hatori's family name when they wed; something that the man hadn't thought would happen.

Given the Yoshinos had a longer history than his own family, it had seemed natural that the reverse would be true; that he would take Chiaki's surname for his own. But it transpired that his intended's parents didn't mind their son letting go of it, provided that one of the couple's future children would take over the family inheritance when the time came. That was easy enough of a condition to agree to. In the modern age, most of the duties of a lord or lady could be farmed out to specialists such as land managers and lawyers if the individual didn't wish to make ruling his or her full time occupation.

After the practicalities were dealt with, however, the conversation took a turn toward more personal matters, Chiaki's father donning a serious face as he prepared to question the man seeking his only son's hand in marriage. He had to be absolutely certain of the man's caliber before allowing the match; and, knowing Hatori as he did from childhood on up, there wasn't that much to ask other than the obvious question weighing on the patriarch's mind.

"Have you ever made any... advances... toward our son before?"

"No, sir, before this day I have only been a friend to him, nothing more. However, I have been in love with Chiaki for as long as I can remember, even if it has never come to any fruition. I never confessed to those feelings up until now."

The elder Yoshino nodded approvingly, satisfied that he was receiving the whole truth. Knowing his son, it probably would have been more obvious to he and the young man's mother if Chiaki had ever entered into a serious relationship before now. Subtlety was not one of his heir's traits. Katsura knew this and accepted it. Chiaki was a good child, and had never given them any trouble. Hatori also never had, over the years that he had watched the boy grow into an adult, and he knew that Hatori was a great deal more mature and responsible, which could only be a positive influence on Chiaki; it made the other a well-suited partner for life.

"In our family, it is traditional for the bride or groom we give away to remain chaste until the night of their wedding celebration."

Chiaki colored at once at the words streaming from his sire's mouth, blushing and looking anywhere but at Hatori. He felt like steam was about to come blasting out of his ears, too. It wasn't like Chiaki didn't know that, but it was still really embarrassing to have his father tell someone else about the custom, which, by extension, exposed Chiaki for his honor-imposed inexperience.

"We would request that you keep that firmly in mind, moving forward."

Hatori, while he didn't necessarily believe it was important to wait until the wedding night to consummate love when it was clearly there, nodded in agreement because it was the proper thing to do. He loved Chiaki and didn't want to do anything to create dissonance between himself and the family of the man he loved.

"I am glad you agree, and as a man I expect you to keep your word."

The sentence was spoken with an air of superiority and marked Hatori as a challenge. He could feel the heat of humility radiating from Yoshino and the fact that both he and the man he loved had basically held off from sex for three decades was impressive. He didn't want to admit this to Yoshino senior, by any means, but to hear that it wasn't just him who was inexperienced made his heart beat with desire.

"Well, now that that's settled, you had better give me plenty of cute grandchildren, Yoshiyuki-kun!"

"MOM!" Chiaki hollered immediately.

Why couldn't the woman ever act like she was on his side?

 

* * *

 **(** August 31st, 2012 **)**

* * *

The months had been long, but he had known the man for almost three decades - they weren't strangers, to need to get to know each other better before taking such a grand step. Sure, their tenure was as companions, but, that was as good a basis as any for a relationship, and, Chiaki had to admit that the more the summer had worn on, and the more thought he had given it, he really thought he could be in love with the man he knew as his best friend.

There hadn't been much opportunity for romance, what with the near-constant supervision by servants, and the fact that they both worked so much in those intervening months in order to have some time free for after their wedding to settle into the new stage of their life. The closest they had come to anything had been one stolen late night, when it had been only the two of them left over after work had concluded, and they had been sitting on the couch.

Chiaki, even though kissing still embarrassed him, didn't mind snuggling at all, because he had done similar things like hug his fiancé before they ever got engaged. Something about being curled up next to another person was soothing and comforting, and, for him, Hatori was the best human pillow of all. The man's body was so solid and warm, very nice to rest on especially when Chiaki was halfway to falling into the realm of slumber.

So they had been that night, half sitting, half laying at one end of the sectional, both groggy, and silent as death out of mutual exhaustion. Chiaki's arms were circled around Hatori's neck, chin resting on one broad shoulder as he settled himself into a comfortable perch.

Things had started slowly, with an accidental brush when Hatori went to move, not wanting his leg to fall asleep, stretched out on the sofa cushion. Nothing was immediate, but this set off a chain, where he started to crave just a little bit, hands sliding dangerously south to rest at the backs of Chiaki's thighs, not knowing that the area was sensitive. Truthfully, Chiaki hadn't known either.

Somewhere in the fray, desires meshed, and despite the external factors, they had begun to shyly experiment, carefully shifting from their places, bodies rubbing against each other. Neither looked each other in the eye, then, considering Chiaki's head was all but buried in Hatori's neck, hiding from what he was too nervous to see, that which he would rather just feel instead. The sensations being elicited were unfamiliar and pleasant, stealing his breath and making his heart want to pound right through the walls of his chest. Best of all he could tangibly feel the love being offered to him, and that made him curious to explore it further.

Things had grown to a fever pitch, stirred and leaving them ragged for breath, even with all their clothes still in place, albeit heavily ruffled. Both had taken a moment of pause, questions bubbling beneath the surface of where to go from there - to wait, or to proceed against wishes.

Chiaki had been as scared as hell, feeling the other's stiff need nudging up against the tent of his own. He didn't know what to do about it, nor if he should, considering the situation. He felt torn in both directions, wanting to reach out and touch the other, to explore that new phase of their relationship, but neither did he want to make his parents upset. It wasn't that long of a time they had asked them to wait, so he would feel bad for dishonoring that commitment like someone with no self-control. In the end though, the decision wasn't left up to either of the men.

Intervention had arrived in the specter of a returning art assistant to the apartment's cozy confines.

The man had barged in in rather a hurried manner, muttering a litany of oaths as he barreled straight into the draft room without so much as glancing into the parlor their way.

Even so, the intrusion startled the pair out of whatever mindset had been threatening to overtake their combined good sense, and they had quickly made themselves more presentable, breaking apart to sit side by side on the sofa, even if pillows were allotted in a strategic manner.

A few minutes later, the assistant emerged, a level more clearheaded than when he had arrived.

Sheepishly searching out the author, he walked into the living area and made apologies for having burst in without asking first. Apparently he had forgotten his wallet in the other room, and the shock of losing something so important had made his focus narrow, and his manners diminished, for which he said he felt remiss. Chiaki waved off the man's concern though, more eager to get the helper out the door to put an end to his embarrassment than he was worried about etiquette.

This sort of incident had been par for the course the length of their engagement, and so by the time they had made it to today, both were more than overanxious to finally get around to starting that next stage of their relationship.

 

* * *

Chiaki knew that, in most people's cases, weddings were big affairs, where you would invite anyone and everyone, both family and friends. He was glad though, for the traditions of his own family, who preferred to keep things simple, with only immediate family, and no one else allowed. Only his parents, his sister, and Hatori's parents would be celebrating with them, and that was perfectly fine for his tastes. The day was nerve-wracking enough without having to consider being ambushed by a bunch of people he didn't know, or didn't know very well, acting close all of a sudden.

The more he watched Hatori, though, at the pre-ceremony dinner, the more Chiaki realized that the other might be more nervous than he was. That notion didn't sit well with the artist, and he set his attention to trying to brainstorm a way to help calm Tori down. They had always relied on each other when they were younger and he didn't see any way that would change now. If anything, they'd really get closer, being married, right?

Time passed rapidly, it felt, as they ate and were offered congratulations. Chiaki's mother once again made a spectacle of herself, asking for a passel of grandchildren, and once again the artist was embarrassed by said antics. There was no idea of knowing when they'd have children, or if they would even be able to. Some people were infertile, after all, and that could be their lot in life. It was more common in carrying men than in women to be unable to host a healthy pregnancy, and that was one thing neither had had checked out before. Chiaki sincerely hoped that everything was normal with Tori and his' bodies, but for now it was a mystery not yet broached.

First though, he couldn't be putting the cart before the horse. Today was one thing, the future was another. Within the next hour or two, they would wed, and that was where his focus was now. The ceremony was to be held outside in the gardens lining the heart of the estate.

"Wisdom says that those who make their wedding bonds in that sacred place with only their eyes and ears as witness will remain joined in harmony for all time."

The couple regarded the pronouncement as solemnly as possible, but, when Chiaki looked around at the rest of the others, he noticed his younger sister rolling her eyes at their father's grandiose words. He had to smile a bit to himself at her actions; sometimes Dad was more serious than the occasion called for, and she and he had both heard many a tale over the year from their sire about Yoshino family traditions and how hallowed they were.

Chiaki wasn't sure if it was really the place that kept a married pair happy, but, nonetheless, he wasn't counting on it. If anything he wanted his marriage to work because he and Hatori worked, together, not because of luck.

 

* * *

Hatori and he were walking to where their vows would be recorded when inspiration struck. Chiaki stopped in the middle of the greenery-flanked path and solicited for the other's attention, noting Hatori's still very quiet disposition. Quieter than usual, that was, considering his intended was a man of few words unless at work. The brunette guessed just by observation that the man was still uneasy for some reason about the day. Chiaki wasn't entirely sure why, but he would do his best to squash that fear.

Turning to face the older, he smiled cheerily and launched into the idea that occurred to him. Trust his father to be the one gabbing on about the family history on a day like this, but that exact behavior was what had given Chiaki his plan now, so he couldn't entirely knock it.

"Tori, do you know about Yoshino Yuudai? He was my great-great-great grandfather..."

"I believe so. Wasn't he the warrior type?"

"Yes, in the civil war back then he was a general, and he helped win a lot of really important battles, so a lot of people respect his memory. I think that's probably why everyone makes a big deal out of being in our family, because we're related to someone like him. Anyway, he had two sons, Oba and Hibiki, and you may not know... but they both married men, and had happy marriages. That's why I don't think you have to worry about me, Tori, it's not the first time someone in my family has done this... and my parents like you too, so I guess I don't want you to be upset when there's no reason to be."

Hatori nodded slightly and his hand moved deftly to where it could wrap around Yoshino's. Feeling Chiaki's hand in his, not trying to pull away, made Hatori that much much happier.

They walked together, hand in hand, to the grove where the actual ceremony was to take place. The priest was already there, waiting patiently under a weeping willow tree. Wild flowers were scattered throughout the area, making it the most picturesque area for the wedding. Neither had wanted anyone else to be there for the vows, believing that the things said were intended for their ears, the one who officiated, and god.

Chiaki was surprised at how fast time seemed to be moving and soon the priest had asked them to face one another and say their vows.

Originally Yoshino had wanted to write his own, but after careful consideration he realized that he'd be too tongue-tied to get out his own words, so he and Hatori, both, had agreed to use the traditional sayings rather than create their own. Tori had even been corny enough to say that they would say their own vows when they finally made love as husbands, to which Chiaki had stuttered and told the man he said way too many embarrassing things.

The truth hit hard when the priest announced them as one unit rather than two. Chiaki didn't know how to respond to that, so he let Hatori sweep him into a sensual kiss. At some point the priest disappeared and it was only the two of them, still locked in a heated embrace, feeling one another out with their tongues, as if they were learning about one another for the first time in their lives.

"I want to make love with you, Chiaki," Hatori whispered into his ear, causing him to shiver.

"Okay," Chiaki replied softly.

"Not here, though," Hatori said in a husky voice. "Come with me."

 

* * *

As they walked together down the grassy hill, Chiaki felt like his stomach was going to drop right out from under him at any moment. His pulse was already off the charts, most likely, and his eyes kept surreptitiously peeking at the other beside him, wondering what thoughts were echoing through his mind. Were their thoughts the same? Was he too thinking about... what would probably happen tonight? Chiaki didn't know how to quiet his own preliminary qualms on the matter.

Despite having gone part of the way, they had not actually embraced each other in a complete way yet, due to his family's wishes. Tonight though, it would be their choice, and... Chiaki didn't know what to think. He was kind of curious about it, a little scared, too.

When they reached the designated spot, the arrangements had already been taken care of, a large swath of blankets and pillows decorating the soft ground by the lake. Chiaki viscerally gulped, feeling a little dizzy. It was really going to happen, wasn't it?

A hand slid into the grip of his own, fingers locking comfortingly as they approached.

He stared to the side, meeting the other's gaze and letting a little of the worry fly away into the night. As much as there was to be nervous about, when he looked into Hatori's eyes it didn't seem important any more. The man was looking at him with such an overwhelming expression that his heart started to speed up out of excitement instead.

They stopped just short of the edge of the setting, and he felt himself swept up into Hatori's arms, and held tightly to the man's chest for a long moment, head tucked beside the other's neck. Chiaki closed his eyes for the briefest of moments, a warm feeling settling within him as they remained intertwined. In this lock he felt safe and cared for beyond anything else in his life. It was a staggering emotion, one that made tears prick at his eyes, though he couldn't explain himself if he tried.

Eventually they seated themselves, laying back against the pillows and staring up at the night sky.

It had started out simple, since Hatori didn't want to scare his beloved husband. So rather than push the man into anything too animalistic immediately, he chose to put his arm around Yoshino's shoulder and pull the man's head to his own shoulder. Chiaki didn't push away, in fact, he seemed to fall into place like he was meant to be there and this turned Hatori on more than any of the dreams he'd had the prior few decades.

Feeling braver, Hatori used his other hand to gently caress Yoshino's knee, specifically the underside of said knee. This sent the mangaka into a slight fit of giggles.

"T-T-Tori, I'm ticklish there, you know that," Chiaki stammered as he tried to keep his calm. In truth he was rather turned on by the touch and knew what he wanted to do, he just didn't know how to put it into words.

"Yes, Yoshino, but this is an erogenous zone as well and I want to prepare you," he calmly stated as he continued searching out the zones on his husband.

"Erogenous zones!" Chiaki squeaked in mortification. "Don't say such embarrassing things!"

Hatori chuckled slightly. "You don't call this, that we are about to do, an embarrassing thing, Chiaki?" The way he said it sent a shiver down Yoshino's spine and all he could do was nod his head and turn red enough to rival a radish.

Chiaki looked up and his gaze was locked with Hatori's. He could feel his heartbeat racing as he knew what the outcome of the night would be. The very idea should have thrown him into a fit of hysterics, but for some reason he was in a state of relaxation and wanted nothing more than to make love with his new husband on their wedding night.

The editor could see the look in Yoshino's eyes and knew their minds were on the same wavelength. All that mattered was they were here, in this moment, and soon they would belong completely to one another. Hatori looked at the wedding rings adorning their fingers. A matching set to accent one another's love for each other.

His finger swept over the golden band reverently, but his eyes were trained directly into Chiaki's gaze when he did so, and the intensity of it forced the other to have to look away, lest he self-combust from sheer embarrassment.

Hatori's hand then glided elsewhere, fingering at the belt that corded around the robe the man was wearing. "Is it fine?" he inquired before continuing.

The other nodded, almost imperceptibly, and he slid the fabric free, opening the garment with flourish. Hatori encouraged Chiaki to lay back against the pillows, and sidled next to him, unloosing his own garb. Their pulses beat in sync in those next moments as they began to explore.

Hatori slipped his hand under the silk, and with a small sound of surprise, he found it easily, half-hard and clearly waiting for his attention.

Running his finger over the side, he waited no longer to take the organ into his hand, gently stroking it against his palm and thumb. Chiaki was staring up at him with wide, somewhat confused eyes, squirming uncomfortably even while his flesh stiffened as it should beneath such care. Hatori lowered his weight, keeping his gaze on the other, watching for a clue of what he could do and what he couldn't do.

Leaning in, he began a slow kiss, settling in with a groan as he knew Chiaki's lips were responding in kind, bodies tangling more as their intensity grew. It began with a leg, casually looping around his own, that thigh sliding tantalizingly against his as it repositioned, opening up to allow him to rest himself between it and the other. Chiaki's hips on their own accord, bumping up against him as he continued pumping his husband's arousal as the seconds dragged on.

It was so beautiful and so gratifying, hearing the intake of jagged breaths and sweet muffled outcries as he pleasured the one he loved so dearly, under the stars, for the first time. It outshone any of his wildest fantasies, and he felt himself overcome with affection and the urge to turn and ask how it was he was ever so lucky, when he had wanted this for so long and he was being granted it now.

After a point he couldn't hold back any, and he found himself withdrawing the hand, instead rhythmically humping his lower half downward, trying to share friction with the other for both their benefit. Chiaki's head snapped up with an unbridled cry of ecstasy, the first time they brushed such against each other, and Hatori felt as if that sound would be forever etched into his memory, so melodious was the noise. He could feel the smaller man trembling fitfully with him, hands latching onto him and never daring to let go.

"Chiaki," he moaned without restraint, laying peck on brow, nose, and finally, mouth. "I love you. I'm yours. I've waited for you this entire time. It hasn't been easy, but I have. I love you," he repeated. The situation was so sweet right that for him it was almost hard to believe it was happening. He needed some sort of comfort that it was real, but, for now, if it was only a dream, he would make his feelings clear.

"I'm… Tori's… first, too?" It didn't seem possible, but the man would never lie about something like that. He had never lied to Chiaki before about anything.

"And my last."

Chiaki's shoulders relaxed. They were not as far apart as he had worried, then.

 

 

* * *

**  
**

Chiaki tilted his chin up, eyes clamping down tightly to complete the laborious expression. He whimpered audibly. It truly was uncomfortable though, feeling something so big trying to piece through an opening that hadn't borne any similar intrusions thus far in life. He appreciated Hatori attempting to go slow, but in the back of his mind Chiaki did wonder if maybe the pace was part of the problem he was facing. All he could do right now though was to let the other know his frame of reality.

"I'm almost in."

"Toriiii," the darker haired man groaned, stretching out the favored name. "…I don't know if I can do this."

"Yes you can," Hatori soothed, straightaway. "We're making love. It's always difficult the first time."

"I know, Tori, but it _hurts_!"

"…Chiaki, do you trust me?" There wasn't any easy way to go about joining, they both were fully aware of that, but Hatori had thought of one way that might abate the roughness to a degree. Instead of drawing out the process, getting over the hurdle of the initial impact quickly could help.

After a weighty pause, Chiaki nodded in timid acquiescence.

"I'm going to move quickly, and it will hurt for a moment but it should be a little less after that. Can I enter you?"

Chiaki opened his eyes to glance at his husband, needing the reassurance and comfort he always found in the stoic man's loving gaze.

"Okay," he agreed quietly after a long moment of searching. "Please just do something about it. Whatever will help."

Not wanting to prolong the pain any longer, Hatori took a deep breath and surged forward like a tidal wave breaking into the cove.

Chiaki squealed when he felt the sensation of shock racking through him as his body accepted the stark intrusion, the older's cock springing free into his narrow recesses for the first time. He quickly had to suck a breath in just to temper the stretch and burn of it.

But, unwittingly, Hatori was in pure and blindly consuming ecstasy. He could feel himself finishing in a single blow, wet heat shooting deep and true to coat his love's insides.

"Ah pardon me."

He looked away, lips pressed together sullenly. This was about more embarrassing than any other situation he could imagine taking place. The first time he had been able to lavish his passion on his new spouse, the man he had loved for over twenty years, and… he didn't even last a minute once inside. What Chiaki must think of him, he didn't want to contemplate. All he had wanted was to make this good for the both of them, and he failed in that right off the bat.

The worse part was that he couldn't seem to move, to retreat or somehow salve his humiliation.

"It's okay. I… love you, don't I? We can just… do it … some more, right?" Chiaki's voice was soft, questioning, but smoothed over him like a comfort blanket, making him turn his gaze back on the smaller man willingly. Chiaki smiled at him kindly. "Tori, don't feel bad, all right? It will be fine."

"After all, you're already all… " Chiaki blushed bright red, more so than any strawberry, "a-all the way in _there_ , aren't you? Umm…"

"… Is that your way of saying, 'don't stop?'" Hatori asked quietly, his words making Chiaki think about how what he had said sounded aloud. Summarily he became flustered, face brightening with a new rush of blood, and he stammered horribly as he shot back at the other.

"Wh-Who would s-say something l-like that! I-I was j-just e-en-encouraging…!"

"I understand." The solemnity had left Hatori's voice, replaced by an undercurrent of amusement.

He started to maneuver the pair of them onto their sides for until they recovered.

Chiaki could not only feel that motion, though, but the fullness he had earlier been experiencing was intensified as they shifted, the other's cock seeming to push deeper inside in one fluid movement, making him shiver with sudden pleasure; his eyes rolled quickly into the back of his head. Even his own body betrayed him in that second, clamping down on the still somewhat-stiff length and sending a jolt ricocheting up his spine. When he felt that he doubted that "trying again" would be very far off.

As far as himself, he was standing on end, burning with desire, so when he felt Hatori's touch brush him again, he about sighed in relief, if he hadn't been so close to the edge at that time. Just the sensation of Hatori's long fingers pulling on it was exquisite torture; Chiaki could not help but to embarrass himself and thrust abettingly into the hold, leading the way for the rest of him to tremble with incoming euphoria.

Hatori's fingers drew up higher, fiercely rubbing the head of his ardor and pushing a thumb into the slit that was already beginning to bubble over with pearly excess, small jets spurting out as Chiaki's passion built higher and higher.

His whole lower half was beginning to pull in on itself, preparing for something explosive, and the sudden harsh suckling at the base of his neck was only tightening him more. Hatori's lips were fastened to the soft skin there, indubitably making a mark, and Chiaki moaned from the notion alone, wrapping sweaty arms firmly around the other as he neared bliss. It was if he could feel Hatori everywhere on and inside and around him; that feeling of complete embracing seemed to him the happiest of his life.

"I-I!" he exclaimed desperately, only for the words to be lost in a blinding whirr of sensory overload.

His whole frame convulsed and he came, shooting heavily between them and spilling over between their stomachs and maybe a little higher too.

All he knew was the exultation of that pressure finally being released, and the subsequent, almost painful sensation as he was rolled back onto his back and pulled slightly out of, until only the tip of the other's arousal remained lodged within his tight seal. He looked on in benign wonderment, eyes creased with the seconds earlier luxuriation.

"Chiaki," the other imparted huskily, staring straight into his gaze with a look he had never had bestowed on him, one so beautiful that his heart ached, "I love you."

"Tori," he could only reply, squeezing the other in a happy embrace and breaking their stare to nuzzle his face into Hatori's neck, where he felt compelled to kiss. "I love you too." It was muffled, but he felt assured that the other knew his feelings in that moment.

Bearing down, Hatori slowly began pushing back in, content and headily aroused for more. He could not think of a time that he had ever felt so turned on by any of his dreams, or daydreams for that matter. Not only because of the physicality he was experiencing, but also from surrounding factors. Being able to gaze at Chiaki openly, and express his love without fear was a simple privilege but one that for Hatori was not quantifiable. Hearing such words from the other only inflamed him further; he gained a surge of energy upon their deliverance that possessed him to take the man in deeply, to lavish Chiaki's every inch in retribution for the joy he felt.

More methodical than before, he thrust searchingly, aiming for what he knew lay shallow and that would indubitably pleasure the other beyond his wildest imaginations. Hatori craved to see that reaction; to be holding the other in his arms as they both tasted of that feeling together, for the first time. It was a beautiful goal.

Chiaki's face was rosy when he peered out next and signifying a prolonged feeling of pleasure, eyes dilated and somnolent in appearance; mouth parted, exhaling wispy breaths in contentment.

Hatori was enraptured with that expression, committing it swiftly to memory upon drinking it in.

Chiaki's gaze caught back on his again seconds before he bent his head to kiss the man's sweet lips, sending an electric thrill through the pair. Hatori edged once more into the other's narrow sheath, this time meeting his wish. With a motion so sudden it could have caused whiplash, Chiaki's mouth disengaged from his.

He released a guttural noise, body arching on its own to try and replicate the sensation that had boldly occurred.

"There?" the other called breathlessly, watching Chiaki as he squirmed in lingering ecstasy. Adjusting slightly, he pulled back and then struck up against it again, blunt head pushing against the thin layer of muscle that acted as barrier between he and Chiaki's pleasure spot.

The more he repeated the motion the more thrilled he felt, watching the artist writhe in consuming pleasure. This was what it was all about for him; his pulse sped up as he thrust rhythmically, beginning to get a hold on how often he could stimulate that spot and not overwhelm Chiaki entirely. He'd be lying if he said he had much control over how fevered he was growing over the way his husband was compressing on him as they sought each other this desperately. He was liable to burst again at any moment, but at least this time he had confidence that they would do so together.

Something in him unexpectedly broke, and he hammered into Chiaki in rapid strokes, opening his mouth to make an inflamed request.

"Chiaki… call my name!"

The man responded immediately, almost as if it had been on the tip of his tongue all along. "Yoshiyuki-ah!"

The last syllable was marred by a sharp intake of breath as Hatori thrust deep, slamming forward with more force than any before.

It rattled both of them a little, and the couple stared into each other's eyes, breathing hard as they continued, keeping with the fierce new rhythm that had been stirred by Hatori's growing desire at hearing that name drop from the sweetest of lips like honey.

Chiaki couldn't help but hold the gaze, some need of his own driving him to want to see the cast of Hatori's eyes when they were making love. Heat was surging throughout all of his body, and he could feel his husband's warm skin tickle against his as they slipped against each other in the throes.

Hatori's mouth was parted, his sounds forcing harshly out of his throat almost as if he was trying to keep them in. Chiaki could tell though, by his expression, how he felt, and it only tightened the knot low in his belly to see such pleasure clearly etched across his lover's features. To tell the truth, Hatori's vocalizations were only piquing his arousal further, hearing the masculine strains as the man pulsed into him.

His own nerves were buzzing frantically, a mixture of ecstasy and pain looping with each other, one being felt after the other.

He moaned without meaning to, giving rise to the embarrassment of his own voice ringing wantonly in his ear, calling out unrecognizable cries laced with his husband's name now and then, loud, far too loud for him to stand it. The sounds, and the feelings, and the thoughts racing through Chiaki's mind… he had no control over any of them, and it scared him.

Lips swept down to claim his, and he let the ideas dissipate at the touch, focused only on the thrill that overtook him when he was kissed.

Hatori was thrusting into him steadily even as his muscles began to spasm.

Chiaki dug his fingers into the man's shoulders hard, unable to contend with the intense shaking. Elation consumed everything in that moment, and his eyes fell shut, riding out the tumultuous waves of satisfaction that had a hold of all of him then. Deep within his body he could sense the other's presence, warm essence filling it now again as the other finished.

His heart was soaring and for some reason Chiaki had the strange urge to cry at that moment, shifting his arms up to cling around Hatori's neck.

The man was breathing raggedly, but his features were eminently gentle as he looked into Chiaki's eyes.

Hatori bent his head, placing a kiss on top of Chiaki's damp bangs and then pulling the man tighter against him in a snug embrace. "I love you," he murmured low.

Tentatively, the other whispered, "I love you too, Tori."

**.  
**

**.  
**

**END CHAPTER.**


	12. You're Gonna Disappear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure if it needs to be said but it's canon that Haruhiko's mother is deceased (that was why Usagi-chi-chi ended up taking him in; because he was the only living parent left). It doesn't say what sort of relationship he had with his mom, but I imagine she had to have been a better parent than Fuyuhiko [not a hard standard to beat; in my personal opinion].

**. . . Triangle . . .**

(July 5th, 2012)

* * *

_Akihiko placed a firm hand on the younger man's shoulder, glittering violet eyes seeming to challenge Haruhiko even then as Misaki began to speak. The other arm caught at Misaki's waist, embracing him simply but with all the trappings of possession._

_"I love his highness," the boy announced gently, his face twitching with unease as he made his feelings known to the brokenhearted man standing across from him. "I'm sorry, but it's true. He can give me so much, and when I'm with him, I've never felt happier at any time in my life. I know that you have... affection for me, Usami-sama, but I can't return that, not anymore. If I'm going to move forward, then I have to be honest, and not lead you on when I know that I'm in love with someone else."_

_"Akihiko-san wants to marry me, and I've accepted his proposal. The time has come for us to separate Usami-sama, so I wanted to do that in person, because you and I were together for so long; I feel I owe you that much in a goodbye."_

_Haruhiko could do nothing but gape in disbelief that this was happening to him. Why was Misaki leaving him behind, and especially for that person? He had thought, he had never doubted that the bond that they shared was strong; had there been a similar bond forming behind his back between these two? In short, none of the sensory permeating the elder Usami's mind was resonating effectively. He felt stymied by the many questions milling about in his brain; merely the pure visceral shock of being said goodbye to was keeping him from opening his mouth to prevent that.  
_

_'No.'  
_

_He had already given up one when his beloved mother had passed on from this earth. He couldn't, he_ wouldn't _lose another, not if he could help it_.

_Haruhiko opened his mouth to object, but no sound issued forth. His hands raised up, fingering at his throat as if that could somehow solve the problem, but the more vainly he tried to speak, the atmosphere pressed down on him, stealing his voice._

_"Good bye, Usami-sama."_

_The two men turned away from him, having gotten what they desired out of the conversation, and his brother looped an arm around the one he loved as they began to walk off into the distance. Haruhiko could no more move to run after them as he could stop them with words; his body too failed him, keeping him planted at the same useless spot, allowing him only to watch with trepidation as his world crumbled around him.  
_

_Framing their silhouettes, a white light grew brighter and brighter, finally obscuring them from view as the seconds wore on._

 

**. . . . .**

Usami Haruhiko opened his burning eyes to the grey-scale of his bedroom, feeling a mutual pain heaped upon relief, rather like coming up for blessed air after a long dive.

The man's hand immediately shot out to his left, searching for the warm, sweet body that normally occupied the space beside him in the large bed. His fingers touched the top sheet on the mattress, the coolness of the fabric initiating another round of quiet tears to start slipping out from blurred eyes; loneliness being thus confirmed.

He clenched the algid linen in his fist, anxiety reaching a fever pitch and lending to his breath a choppy cadence as he felt panic wash over him as well. In the haziness of just being awake, Haruhiko did entertain the thought of if the dream was more than a dream; a foreshadowing of events to come. In his confusion, he even had the passing notion that perhaps it already had, and he was merely dreaming that Misaki was still his loved one. That idea only worsened his condition however, and he quickly pulled himself into a sitting position, backing up against the headboard and trying vainly to get control over his overwrought faculties.

The door slid smoothly open, and the one acutely on his mind walked in, calling softly into the dark quarters, "Haruhiko-san, if you're awake, I have breakfast ready... I can also keep it warm if you want to lay in for a while longer. I'll just be in the kitchen, okay, so please come there when you want to start eating."

Hearing no immediate answer, Misaki looked closer into the shadowy confines of the room. The other was normally a light sleeper and would stir to give him some sort of response. He wanted to make sure that the elder had heard him so he walked further in, squinting at the large bed in the depth of the suite. When he looked in that direction, he could faintly see the outline of what looked like the man sitting up in bed. Considering the lack of speech stemming from the other's lips, Misaki began to worry that something was amiss.

"Haruhiko-san," he began to question, "is something the matter?"

"...Just a nightmare." Was the quiet reply.

"It's all right, Haruhiko-san, whatever it was, it was just a dream. You're awake now, so it can't get you. It's okay," Misaki soothed, scurrying over to sit on the side of the bed beside the older man. His verdant eyes were wide with concern, and he glanced Haruhiko up and down, trying to pick out what the problem was. He had never seen Haruhiko-san look so troubled, and only one time before in their three years together had the lord shed a tear in front of him.

"Misaki." Haruhiko grabbed for his hand, needing to feel a connection, if only to prove that this was real, and that Misaki was still there with him. He gave the boy's palm a firm squeeze, sighing in relief when it did not disappear like the haunting wisp of some mirage. He could feel the other's warmth and solidity in the grasp, and it revived him if only a iota.

"Haruhiko-san, w-what were you dreaming about? You can tell me if it will help!"

Haruhiko's eyes closed, tiredly. "Misaki, please allow me to be a little selfish."

"What do you mean, selfish...oh!"

Misaki squeaked in surprise as the man pulled him down into a laying position, gathered slightly over the older's chest, their legs tangled further down the bed. Haruhiko's arms encircled him, latching on tightly in almost a bone-crushing hug. Misaki propped his chin on the man's shoulder and tentatively wrapped one arm around him in return, his worry about the other beginning to spike exponentially. Haruhiko-san just never acted like this - clingy and forward.

He breathed in Haruhiko's scent from the skin at the base of his neck, laying very still as if hoping to imbue some calm into the older male through placid motions.

They remained there in the silent dark for countless minutes, Haruhiko's hold slightly loosening the more comfortable he grew, and after awhile, he relinquished Misaki. Misaki did not make a move to shift, however, watching and waiting for some sign that the other had simmered down from the aftereffects of his fearful dream. The man's breathing was shaky even after that time had passed, and the shoulders that Misaki leaned on were stiff with lingering anxiety.

He didn't speak, not wanting to break the quiet that might also help Haruhiko be soothed. The only move he did make was to burrow his head into the crook of the man's neck deeper, and shyly push his lips against the clammy skin.

As the seconds rolled on, Haruhiko broke from his static state, rubbing one hand down Misaki's back, gently massaging there.

"I should be doing that for you, Haruhiko-san," Misaki protested at long last, his words muffled by his current hiding place.

"Shh. It makes me happy, Misaki. If you do not want it, say so, but otherwise please permit me this."

Haruhiko's hand moved up to knead in between the boy's shoulder blades, his other hand joining in the treatment. The touch drew his mind off of the nightmare if for the time being, and the concreteness of Misaki laying with him was enough to further ground Haruhiko and help him to believe everything was as he imagined. Misaki wasn't leaving him for Akihiko, he was still here, and they were still one unit.

"It's okay..." Misaki admitted slowly, tacking on the request, "but please tell me what your dream was about? I'm really worried now... you're acting all strange, and I want to know why that is. Maybe if we talk about it then the dream won't come back again a second time."

"You left me."

Misaki tensed under his fingers for a moment, lifting his head to question, "What?"

"In that nightmare, you left me, because you had fallen out of love with me, and into love with him."

"What?" the boy repeated, incredulous. "What do you mean? And who is 'him'?"

"With my brother. You said in the dream that you were going to break off what we have and marry Akihiko," Haruhiko recited dully, releasing the younger from his hold, suddenly having the feeling like he wasn't allowed to touch Misaki. It might only be a dream, but it gave him serious misgivings, to where he still wasn't quite sure what was up and what was down.

Haruhiko unlinked them and turned in the bed, reflective. That Akihiko was infatuated with Misaki was true, given the novel that he had written; he agreed with Isaka on that much. But would his sibling go as far as to try and steal away his fiancé from him?

Would he succeed?

**. . . . .**

Eventually the older man had gotten some control over himself, enough to get out of bed and share breakfast with the one whose his worries acutely featured. After the meal they remained in the kitchen for some time, Haruhiko bringing in his laptop to work while Misaki tested out various dishes; next month he was hosting a large business dinner and the youth had decided he wanted to try something new for the menu. Setting up shop in the room was something Haruhiko liked to do on any normal day when he didn't have to go into the office; thinking that because he was gone during the week it was nice to at least be closer to Misaki when he was at home than holed up in his study. They may not be having much in the way of conversation, but the physical closeness was comforting in of itself.

Today that was seeming even more important, to put the elder at ease.

One of the first things on the agenda was to go through the post, checking to see if there was anything that needed attention. It was rare that anyone at work would send a memo through this slower form of communication but, then again, some of the people that the lord rubbed elbows with were rather old-fashioned, so it was a possibility. Better safe than sorry. This morning though, the only paper seemingly of worth was a letter with a return address indicating it was from his childhood companion, Isaka.

Haruhiko slit the letter open, puzzled but not surprised that rather than talk to him in person or over the phone, Isaka had sent some sort of message through the mail. It couldn't be very dire if he posted it that way, so more likely it was something frivolous. His friend was prone to doing those sorts of things, at times even sending a letter consisting of one word merely to mess with him, a "Hello." No one could claim Ryuuichirou was letting his years dictate his behavior. Haruhiko wondered if this paper would be another such prank.

However, when he got the missive out, he was met with a serious card for once, printed on the best stationary.

"It seems they're having a gathering soon, to celebrate Kichirou's birth. There officially they will name the godfather, though he writes me that for the new child, Takatsuki-sama's son is to be the guardian." Haruhiko set the letter aside, making a mental note to add in the event to his personal calendar.

"Being named the godfather is a big honor," Misaki pointed out. "I wonder, though, why they chose differently for each baby? You're Hideyoshi's godfather, so shouldn't you be his little brother's, also?"

He then wrinkled his nose while surveying the measuring cup he was pouring vegetable oil in, and Haruhiko watched him eye the thing carefully, waiting for the moment the meniscus reached the level required in the recipe. Once satisfied, he dumped the contents into the larger bowl and took up a mixing spoon. Though there were electric appliances that could easily do the same thing the boy was intending to, Misaki somehow refused to use them, preferring to stir by hand when baking.

"Yes, I suppose it is. And no, it doesn't have to work that way - it's the parent's choice. It's not like if anything happened that we would purposely split up the boys, or something awful like that. I suppose it's more special for each to have his own godparent to turn to and perhaps that's why the choice was made."

"Oh!" Misaki agreed, finally seeing the sense in it. He was half distracted by his batter though, and soon fell back into the motions of mixing.

As his partner began to work in earnest, Haruhiko allowed himself to retreat into old memories as a distraction.

If he was thinking clearly, he knew that the reason he had had the nightmare was because he was afraid of losing all the happiness that he had accrued over the past few years. It had been a long road to get here, even if at the time he couldn't have foreseen where he would end up, and Haruhiko wouldn't change a thing about the way his life stood now. He knew what he wanted moving forward, too, and they seemed simple enough desires.

He wanted to marry the younger man standing before him, for them to further make the house their home. To come home to Misaki every day and to have a family between the two of them, a few babies being added to their life. Everything else was less important than those goals, and as long as Haruhiko could have them, it didn't much matter how anything other panned out.

All Haruhiko had ever wanted in his life was to be happy, and with those stipulations, he could be.

"Here."

His fiancé was holding up a wooden spoon coated with the cake mix - rich, chocolate, and reminiscent of their shared past. Misaki, with or without realizing it himself, tended to make this type of confection when it would be only for them to share. Never once at a dinner function had he served the dark gateau, but a whole host of other sweets. Haruhiko couldn't help but notice.

He was perplexed, however. "Aren't you always telling me that I will spoil my appetite?"

"...You looked like you could seriously use some right now, Haruhiko-san," Misaki added, his big green eyes examining the older man with unmasked worry from across the island. "Are you feeling okay?"

Haruhiko leaned on the counter, one elbow propped there, hand holding his chin. He closed his eyes for a moment, ruminating.

"It's this thing with Akihiko," he admitted after a while. "It concerns me, because I might lose you."

"No way! Don't you think I can handle myself? I won't let anyone just sweep me away!"

"I have no doubt, Misaki, but Akihiko is your superior, and though my brother, he is also mine." Haruhiko inhaled deeply.

"In addition, when Akihiko and I were younger, I confess I was somewhat of an awful child. I always wanted what he had, and on occasion, I'd snatch it from him. I worry that in this matter, he will be the one doing the snatching, not only out of his desire, but as a way of subconsciously paying me back for past transgressions. Karma, as it were. Is that strange to think?"

Misaki set the spoon back into the bowl, thoughtful. This surprised him. "What do you mean, that you _took_ things from... the prince?"

"Sometimes, they were little things like a toy when we were young, or the pet dog, but as we got older, it became more serious. For example, Akihiko loves to write, and people claim he's quite talented at it. It's not that I would want to be a writer, but, when we were teenagers, I felt that he had the freedom to do whatever his heart desired, and that bothered me. My father, as you know, initially chose my career for me. I didn't have the choice. That was what I was most jealous of, so, back then, I ratted out to Father about Akihiko's books, thinking that if he knew, he'd stop him from doing it, maybe section him off like he did with my path."

"That was probably the worst thing I ever did to Akihiko. In the end though, he still got to do what he loved, so it was a futile action. From there onward, I realized that I could never bring myself to like him, and the feeling was mutual. We try to avoid each other as much as is possible, which brings us around to the relationship we have today."

"Maybe you took things from each other, Haruhiko-san, but none of those things sounds bad enough to make you two hate each other so much. It might be I don't know what I'm talking about, but that's how I see it."

"You're not wrong. It's just that those things each meant something more than their physical worth; what they represented was what I think we were really battling over."

The brunette pursed his lips together, trying hard to comprehend that explanation. For a whole moment he considered it, but came up with nil.

"What do I represent then, if that's how things go?"

Haruhiko turned his gaze upon the other, and then tilted it down, humbly examining the counter beneath him.

In a soft voice, he answered, "That's simple, Misaki. You are happiness."

 

* * *

**. . . Triangle . . .**

(July 9th, 2012)

* * *

 

"Since when do you have to go away? I thought we were going to go look at the bakery Isaka-sama suggested for wedding cakes? There are actually quite a few things planned for this week, Haruhiko-san, important things!" Misaki reminded the elder of them, his tone an amalgamate of frustration and surprise at the abrupt change in schedule. Quite literally the man had just announced the new plans an hour ago, when the brunette had woken up. That he was embarking on a business trip lasting through the rest of the week. Misaki was not amused at the prospect.

He followed behind the other into the walk-in closet, where Haruhiko was picking out shirts and socks at an intense pace, hardly looking to see which ones he was selecting. Once he had gathered about an armful of garments, he strode back out into the main bedroom, setting the array on top of the comforter next to an open suitcase. It was then that he deigned to answer the words tossed out at him.

"I had every intention of being here for those events, Misaki, and, up until this morning, I would have been able to attend. However, it appears that I am needed to seal the final details of the acquisition. It was sudden and unexpected that they requested my presence, and I apologize but I must fulfill that responsibility."

He began deftly folding up his clothes, stowing them one at a time into the base of the traveling bag, eyes focused on the task. The younger male stood by, conflicted.

Work by necessity had to be a high priority, but at the same time, it wasn't as if getting things ready for their wedding was unimportant either. Misaki wanted the elder to do well in his career but for some inexplicable reason today, he was having all of these selfish feelings, wanting the other to choose him over the summons.

"Misaki, would you perhaps like to come to the airport to see me off?" Haruhiko inquired, hoping that the offer might salve a little of the other's discontent.

"Why?" Misaki glowered, his choler rising just a bit higher, "What's a few minutes of goodbye? You're just going to leave anyway!" he snapped, not heeding at all the impact his words were having. It was an uncontrollable response, one that had been building up in him the entire morning.

Still, inwardly, it shocked even him when the vitriol poured from his mouth, even if he made no move to take it back. It wasn't like his usual self, and he couldn't fathom why he'd explode like that. It would have to be something he'd set his mind to thinking about later. For now though his annoyance was getting the better of him.

"Just go on your trip, Haruhiko-san, and then come back whenever it is they'll let you," he finished dismissively, looking away from the elder's face because it made him feel guilty to notice the hurt burgeoning there. "I hope then you'll make time so we can get all the errands done that should have been done now."

Haruhiko stared silently at the floor for a long moment. Truth be told he was a little surprised by the rebuke as well, but he gathered that the hasty nature of his departure might be enough of an impetus for anger.

He couldn't completely blame Misaki for being cross with him; he was a little put out by the sudden trip as well, and the incompetence it suggested by his co-workers if they couldn't wrap up a few simple closing details without him being there. There wasn't anything he could say in defense. He had laid out the facts to Misaki, and if the other was angry with him, he would just accept it. After all he could understand why the younger was disappointed.

"When I come back we will certainly do all of those things. I don't even mind if there are some things you would like to go and do yourself. It's your decision."

"That's the problem, though!" the other insisted, "I wanted to choose them with you! It's not just _my_ wedding, baka!"

The elder of the two sighed in a harried manner, flipping the top of his traveling case closed and beginning to zip it up.

"All I know to say is I'm sorry, Misaki. Again, I wanted to be here to help with the decisions, but, being called away so suddenly... I can't remedy that. When I get back, we will take care of whatever needs to be attended to. I promise you that."

**. . . . .**

Several hours later, Misaki found himself shaking his head in repentance. Reflecting back on his attitude earlier, he was actually a little embarrassed that he had griped at his fiancé in such a way.

As things inevitably happened, it wasn't until the elder was already on his flight when the saturnine brunette calmed down and thought better of his childish ludicrousness. By that time, though, it was too late to apologize. He'd just have to wait a little longer until he could get in touch with the other when he arrived at the hotel he was staying at, afar, and say he was sorry.

Haruhiko-san was an important man, and he worked very hard at his career. Frankly it was even one of the major traits the teen admired him for.

It shouldn't come as a surprise that he might have to travel occasionally, maybe even on short notice such as this occasion. His colleagues respected his work ethic and innovation; Misaki should be proud of what the older accomplished, not pick at him for something that was trifling in the ultimate order of life. Appointments could be re-scheduled, and they hadn't even set a date for the wedding, so it wasn't like there was a rush that required them to have to have "x" event sorted before a certain day or time. It would all work out naturally.

For right now though, Misaki was hanging around in the kitchen, thinking that making something fun might serve to get his mind off of things. There wasn't anything he could do yet, so there was no use moping the rest of the morning and afternoon and making it worse. Whatever strange mood swing had overtaken this morning wasn't anything he wanted to experience for a second go.

Behind him, the door suddenly opened, the portal emitting a stridulous noise as it swung ajar to admit the newcomer.

From behind it entered a familiar figure: tall, silvery-haired, with the noblest of features. Misaki's verdant eyes widened.

He hadn't been expecting a visitor, and, sure, he had been preparing to relax - to unwind from the stressful morning - but it wasn't a bother once he stopped to consider the intrusion. It was merely surprising for the other to precipitously appear like this, without any proper heralding. Then again, Usagi-san seemed like the type of person to set aside such airs in favor of moving about as he wished. In this instance, that behavior didn't bother Misaki. He enjoyed the other's presence, so he wouldn't just turn the man away. It would be rude besides.

"Usagi-san... what are you doing here?"

"I decided to drop by and see if I could spend time with you today, Misaki. If you are busy with anything, though, I can always come over and visit another time..." the royal concluded, violet eyes liquid and almost lonely seeming as he waited for benediction.

Misaki considered the notion. If he was thinking about it, if he wanted the hours to pass quickly and painlessly, it would probably be easier if he had company. He wasn't currently preoccupied so there was also no reason for him to decline the offer.

"Oh no, Usagi-san, I'm not really doing anything right now, so I guess it's fine. ...What did you have in mind?"

"I was actually hoping that Misaki would show me how to make a cake."

The answer to all of his troubles was to bake a cake.

A seemingly arbitrary choice, but the appropriate one, Akihiko had decided, after much rumination on how to move forward his relationship with Misaki. Some time had passed since their first outing together, and he had patiently cultivated a bond, but the time he had spent on it was time enough. The prince was fully ready and desirous of advancing a level in the younger male's heart. As to how a gateau was to be the driving force in his advancement, the plan was circular but easy enough to follow.

Misaki's work was done in the kitchen, and thus, to have the boy to himself, the kitchen was as good a spot as any. If he could create some pretense for them to be alone there, he would have his chance to enthrall the brunette with his best wiles.

The mere imagining of taking Misaki for his own made Akihiko's arousal skyrocket past any deterrence. He _ached_ to feel Misaki's warmth against his skin, the tangle of their bodies in the act of love, the chorus of pleasured notes he would draw from the other's succulent throat; all of those he had been waiting so long to experience.

"Is there something you need a cake for?"

"Ah, yes, a good friend of mine's birthday is coming up soon. He refuses to allow me to buy him a proper gift, but I figured that I could get around that order by making a present, and a birthday cake seemed like a fine choice."

"Good idea!" the youth exclaimed enthusiastically. "I'll teach you how to do it. Have you ever made one before?"

"No."

"Ano... was there any particular type of cake you wanted to make, Usagi-san? What flavor does your friend like the best?" Misaki questioned, striding over to one of the twin stainless-steel refrigerators, fingering at the handle of it as he waited for a response.

Akihiko pondered the inquiry for a moment, but in the end settled upon a more common sort as answer. He himself was uninterested in eating it, and neither would Hiroki, who shared his indifference towards confections of most varieties. In fact, the story he was providing the younger man with wasn't even rooted firmly in truth. Hiroki's birthday was the first of November, in the midst of autumn, and presently it was only summer. However, he had to have some alibi, and his fiery adviser was one of the first figures to spring to mind. It was as simple and benign as that.

"How about... chocolate?"

"Oh, that's fine. I'm certain I have all the ingredients for that type." Misaki opened the cooler and began rummaging through the shelves, picking out a few foods and setting them on the nearby counter - eggs and milk primarily. The rest he gleaned from cupboards around the perimeter of the large kitchen: vegetable oil, flour, chocolate pieces among them. The prince watched mildly as he set up the baking apparatus, congregating all the baking vessels and ingredients on on one of the long and in-obscured counters that would offer space enough for both of them to work at. Once that was done, he set in happily, going through the beginning motions.

"It shouldn't be that hard to make, actual-"

"Do you even have training for this job, Misaki? Or schooling?" Akihiko interjected sharply, heedlessly, watching the boy add in portions by ear with no apparent logic to his process. In hindsight the prince knew that he could have phrased that a bit better, but the words joined the atmosphere without any filtration by him. They caused the younger to heat up rather rapidly, a blush and mild stammer burgeoning as he tried to reply.

"I-I know that, _normally_ , most professional chefs attend some sort of culinary school... but... well, I was in high school when Haruhiko-san decided to hire me. I told him that if he preferred, he could always hire someone who had the proper education, or even if he wanted me to go, I could take lessons... but Haruhiko-san says that he likes my cooking as it is now. Instead he left the choice to me, if I wanted to go or not. I-I think I do want to, eventually, that is, but I'm not ready to go to college yet. Maybe in a few years I'll do it."

"I see."

Akihiko responded in the most close-ended and adiaphorous way he could muster, having decided that this impromptu topic was provoking too much mention of his half-sibling for his liking. He'd rather they move in a different direction.

"Usagi-san, could you hand me the vegetable oil please?"

The prince glanced around for the item in question, noting several bottles of oil on the counter nearby. Not entirely certain which was used for what purpose, he selected one at random for its dark green color - vegetables were predominantly green after all - and then handed it over to Misaki, who took it without looking at first, focused on stirring together the few ingredients already in the mixing bowl in front of him. After a few turns though, the younger eyed the vessel, and his eyes creased.

"Actually this is olive oil," he laughed mildly, "the vegetable oil is the one in the clear bottle. Can I trade you?" He wiggled the bottle in his hand playfully, and Akihiko had to smile, for the younger was, whether he knew or not, acting very...cute.

Several minutes later, with a few more blunders along the way, the ingredients were all in the bowl, and it came time for mixing. Misaki wisely diverted from his usual preference of hand-stirring and got out the electric mixer, gauging that the prince was the sort of person who might tire of the former method, and would be better off finishing up quickly.

"Okay Usagi-san, do you want to try and do it?"

He held out the small appliance to the prince, who eyed it curiously, never having used one before in his life, and then took the device, placing it beater-side down into the bowl.

"Just be sure to use a low setting, okay?"

'Low' out of the one to five range on the mixer to Akihiko translated about a three, which is what he flipped the switch to. Unfortunately, it wasn't low enough to prevent the trouble that then occurred.

Batter went flying, arbitrarily in all directions, striking against whatever surface it encountered. Most of the debris landed on the bowl itself, or the counter surrounding, but a little flecked upward on the faces of the two would-be bakers, chocolate dotting the skin. Even in the confusion, Misaki was able to get a handle on the situation, quickly turning the mixer all the way off and stilling it, hand closing over the other's until the situation calmed.

Akihiko blinked down at the site of destruction, a bit discombobulated as to how it could have gone so wrong. Misaki did say a low setting, and surely three wasn't too high... or was it?

"Um, let's just... here, let me take over, Usagi-san," Misaki intoned evenly, taking back the mixer from the elder and turning it to "1" and started to get into a rhythm, combining all the ingredients quickly and smoothly. When the mixture lay flat and lump-less within, he withdrew, moving to place the mixer in the kitchen sink and grabbed a few paper towels for clean up.

Taking one from the string of sheets he'd picked up, Misaki took the liberty of wiping down the counter, as the other didn't seem to be naturally taking to helping with the chore.

After a few moments the silence became deafening and Misaki spoke up again. "That wasn't the worst thing that could happen on your first try at cooking, Usagi-san," he said kindly.

"What makes you think it's my first time 'cooking'?" Usami replied, slyly.

The meaning flew right over Misaki's head and hit the wall. "It was just a hunch; you don't seem to know what to do in a kitchen when it comes to confections."

That was true, when it came to cooking things to eat, Usami was quite the virgin. Other types of cooking, and other types of things to eat...well that was another matter entirely.

The prince looked at Misaki, who had just finished cleaning off the counter and noticed he had something on his face. The chocolate looked cute and Usami wanted nothing more than to use his tongue to clean it off. He didn't however, since Misaki turned to look at him and an adorable smile started to stretch from ear to ear.

"Um...pardon me, Usagi-san," Misaki mumbled shyly. "You have something on your...um...face."

Inwardly the prince grinned. He may not be able to lick anything off the boy, but he could get the kid to wipe it off for him.

"Really?" he asked, in mock surprise. "Could you clean it off? I can't see it."

Misaki blushed at the thought of cleaning the prince's face. It wasn't something a commoner like him would normally do, especially since he was a cook and not a gentleman's gentleman. Still, there was no mirror within reach, so it would be quicker - and more practical - to clean the man off himself.

"Sure," he finally said. "Let me..." He reached up and pulled the older man's face toward his and used a clean towel to wipe off the grime. Once he was clean he took a step back.

"All done, Usagi-san," he stated cheerfully.

"Thank you Misaki... here, you have a little on you, as well. Allow me."

The teen waited patiently, knowing he couldn't see the speck, wherever it was, and he didn't think much of it, apart from the strange atmosphere of having the _Crown Prince_ in _his_ kitchen, brushing off chocolate from his face. It was something he could never manage to explain to himself. Didn't Prince Akihiko have better, more important things to do than to be hanging around here, working on a cake?

'Well,' he hedged, 'there are a lot of advisers to see to the various sectors of the realm's management,' as Haruhiko had once explained to him, but still, the prince had his own special duties laid out for him by his father, the king. Why then? And even if he had wanted to try baking, why not do it somewhere else? Why come to this kitchen, specifically, and not the one in the palace? It wasn't even in a convenient location for the royal's normal daily trajectory.

Misaki puzzled over the details as Akihiko raised his hand to touch the side of his cheek, presumably reaching for the frosting.

Why did all the strange things seem to happen to him? He was just an ordinary boy, but he had somehow ended up the betrothed of a great lord, and now these sorts of antics. If this was how it was for him now, he wondered just what his past lives had been like!

He was pulled out of these musings when he felt a faint pressure against his mouth, and jolted back into reality when he realized it was Akihiko's thumb swiping over his lip.

Misaki tensed up slowly, unease creeping through him in a steady wave, pulling his muscles tight until he was clenched up, brittle, shatter-able at the lightest of touches. It did not help that if he focused in, he could taste the rich flavor of chocolate that had been transferred with the touch. He quickly moved to clear it with his tongue, turning his head to the side as he did so, beginning to feel as if everything was about to go horribly, horribly wrong.

"Is that an invitation?" a husky voice queried before just as suddenly as it began, he was swept away in the rip tide for good.

The prince grabbed him by the shoulders, and he broke. Ravenous lips propelled forward to claim his, and despite his best attempts, a hot tongue managed to probe its insistent way into his mouth.

"Mmphh!"

Misaki threw his hands up in surprise, and the elder man quickly moved them so that they rested around his trim waist. His lips crashed onto Misaki's repeatedly, teeth clicking, and the poor brunette could do nothing but sit there, stunned, hoping his instincts would kick in and help him survive this surprise attack.

He could sense Akihiko's large hands now slithering their way up under the confines of his shirt, and he shivered at the motions of the intimate touch.

Everything seemed to be registering slower than normal, and he could not keep up. With each hard-fought breath he was sucked back in, treading water but never making headway. He tried to think of how to stop him, but then he felt hopeless. He could not strike a prince, but then, he didn't want this either, and Akihiko did not seem the type to listen when he desired something.

Takahashi Misaki was, in a word, drowning.

One broad palm brushed over his rosy nipple, teasing the sensitive nub with the most featherlight of touches before fingers swooped in, roughly shifting the pace, rolling and pinching hard, dragging muffled cries from the youth. The older man seemed to press closer into the space between them, overwhelming him entirely with his presence.

His breathing was staggered as he released Misaki's mouth, and for the split second the chef dared to look him in the eye, he saw burning determination. Akihiko also wore an out of place smile, soft and dripping of happiness that Misaki could not say he understood the cause of.

"You're lovely, Misaki," Akihiko murmured. "I won't tell _that person_ , if you indulge me, just this once."

"Usagi-san, don't do this." Misaki requested solemnly, placing both hands on the prince's chest and pushing him away, if only as little as he could. "I am engaged to marry Haruhiko-san," he tacked on weakly, eyes darting from Akihiko's and elsewhere. Sweat beaded at the back of his neck as he tried to come up with the right turn of phrase to dispel the awkward atmosphere. "You know that."

Akihiko stared deeply into Misaki's eyes, and the boy could sense the elder ruminating very carefully in that moment; what he was going over was a mystery, but all he could hope for was for some resolution to the situation they found themselves in. Misaki's shoulders were rife with anxiety; he bent his back over the counter slightly, leaning on it for support. The other's hands were placed on the granite on either side, blocking his flight, but even if he hadn't, Misaki didn't have the presence of mind to take a step away. He was so very, very befuddled by the exchange thus far.

"Misaki," the other tried eventually, his tone low and gravelly, cautious, "I understand the obligations you have to my brother. But I am falling for you more and more every day, and I can't control those feelings and pretend like they don't exist. You know how I felt about Takahiro; even that, even that affection I kept for so long, it cannot compare to what I feel now, for yourself."

Akihiko barked out a wry laugh, voice hitching as he continued, "For someone of my birth, I never seem to be able to have what I truly want. Love is a beautiful emotion, something I have written about so many times before…"

Misaki lowered his gaze, surreptitiously noticing his pulse beginning to heat up a stage, and he looked down at his feet, unsure as to why that reaction would have been inspired in the first place.

"But never once I have been fortunate enough to experience it, in reciprocation that is."

Akihiko placed one finger under the boy's chin tilting it up so that their gazes met once more. Misaki swallowed, hard at the pure emotion reflected back at him.

"Is it so wrong to want to feel loved, even if only one time in my pitiful existence here on Earth?"

**… . .**

_"I'm sorry… about my brother, Usami-sama. It must hurt badly."_

_"What is it that is supposed to hurt badly?" Akihiko inquired, his eyes scanning over the boy. He moved a step closer, taking the action almost warily, sensing the teen's fragility._

_"Your heart," Misaki answered, into the sleeve he was using to futilely dry his trail of tears. "You love nii-chan, don't you? He's being so mean. I guess that he doesn't know, maybe, but that's no excuse, because you are still sad because of it! And that isn't okay."_

**… . .**

Pulling back into the present, the brunette frowned, gears grinding mentally as he tried to reconcile the differing factors in the moment. Out of reflex he stared upward, taking in the solemn face of Usagi-san, who then reached forward, ruffling the hair at the top of his head while looking down at him.

"Misaki, let me hold you… just once."

The younger's eyes snapped back shut, scared beyond belief as he really didn't know what to do.

Mere seconds later, as ideas were speeding through his mind, he felt lips press succinctly against his own, lighting a new flame in the pit of his stomach.

Misaki's hands latched onto Akihiko's forearms, gripping them loose as the man's mouth melded to his own, slowly exploring the soft flesh of his lips. The younger could almost feel Usagi-san's body heat radiating to his frame, standing as closely as they were; it imbued him with an unusual sense of calm as he allowed himself to be kissed. He was engulfed by it.

Akihiko lowered one hand, cupping between Misaki's legs and stirring the reactive flesh within. Circling his grip and rubbing, he thrust his tongue boldly into Misaki's mouth, bombarding him with two intense sensations at once. The muscles slicked together wetly, dancing around each other before the elder would push back in, tongue mapping the soft inner corners of his oral cavity.

He ran his hand over it, palming the growing projection into eager fullness. Casting one slanted smile at Misaki before, the prince slipped to his knees, dropping the youth's casual attire to the floor in one fell swoop.

He could almost _sense_ the blood that soared into and lit up the brunette's face when he pulled that sudden little maneuver. In any event, heavy breathing flooded his ears as he removed the last barrier, drawing out Misaki's beautiful cock into the light. It stood out as it should, pinkened and waiting for attention. Akihiko eyed it fondly and then leaned in, making one smooth swipe from root to crown.

The younger shuddered bodily, inadvertently pressing squared hips closer to home. Spindly fingers came to rest on the apex of either broad shoulder, searching out support. Eyes remained tightly shut.

Akihiko worked his tongue languorously around the head before swallowing the heated flesh in, suckling sweet skin with all the fervor he could manage. Words could not express his bliss in this moment. Misaki was all he had imagined and more; the feel of his small hands holding onto him in of itself was enough to make the royal's heart beat a samba within his chest. He could keep an outward composure better than anyone, but had Misaki been able to feel his pulse, that would have told the true tale of just how inflamed he was.

"Unn… U-Usagi-san," Misaki imparted quietly, mildly oscillating his pelvis as the other began bobbing more fervently, bucking abettingly forward into the wet heat of Akihiko's mouth. His voice was constricted, broken and mixed up with a chorus of desperate pants. Awash with poignant stimulation, his mind could entertain nothing else.

"Y-You don't have to!" he added shrilly, then moaning increasingly, "Unnn, it… it's gonna come out!" Misaki's slender legs started to buckle, causing the other to place one hand at his side to safeguard him.

Akihiko deftly slid the boy deep in his throat, permitting only pithy thrusts back and forth at this point, the incredible warmth of it encasing the younger's tip he intended to be the other's undoing. He suctioned hard, determined to taste of the nectar that would soon spill forth for his enjoyment.

Misaki was letting out a series of loud, strangled noises that indicated to him that that moment was only mere seconds away. Akihiko's gaze peered upward, memorizing the honest face of the brunette, enraptured. Truth be told, that flushed and wanton expression Misaki was currently displaying made him so aroused it nearly _hurt_. Soon. Soon he needed to be joined with the other, after what seemed like an eternity of waiting for that chance.

It didn't take long for the prince's expert movements to send Misaki over the edge as he felt his seed start to shoot from his insides. He could feel the prince drinking each and every drop that was spent and that caused the orgasm to extend as his shaft was stroked and his head massaged by Akihiko's tongue. Each time he jolted, the prince ran his tongue over the slit at the top of his erection, which caused a tingling sensation to follow that caused Misaki to shiver all the more.

Once the boy stopped his convulsions, the prince took that time to clean his cock a little with a few more hearty sucks. The boy was obviously still riding out the internal workings of an orgasm and the prince wanted to add onto that. He stood up quickly and leaned in for more intimacy.

As the elder claimed his mouth, Misaki mused on the two warring tastes he was accustomed to at a time like this. Both men were so different, even when they carried the same flavor of his satisfaction on their tongues. Akihiko's brand was more cloying, tangible, while the other man's… Misaki quickly jettisoned the thought away, turning his gaze firmly on the one before him. If he looked back, he would be lost. What had been done was already done, and he would have to feel the consequences later on whether it would be difficult or not. Right now.. right now wasn't that time. It just… wasn't.

He looked up into Usagi-san's violaceous eyes, which were surveying him with a palpable desire and affection. Misaki thought back to the beginning of this incident unwillingly; it was was wrong, but in that moment it had seemed right. The other was so sincere and demoralized when they had talked; the royal had entreated him - 'just once.' Just once; was that… could that condition be justifiable in the light of day?

The feel of the boy in his arms was inexplicably divine and all Akihiko could think of in that moment was feeling that perfect ass surrounding his need. They were in a kitchen, which meant there were certain organic materials that would make this feel much more comfortable for both of them. Then he recalled the cooking oil used for the cake. That stuff was more than slick enough to make his cock nice and accommodating for the young man's cavern.

Without breaking free from the kiss he met the other with, Akihiko slid his shaft from its sheath and then reached for the bottle of cooking oil. He could have hung a shirt on his cock and let it dry, that was how ready he was. The prince almost didn't need lubricant with all the pre-cum that had started to spill from his opening. There was no point in risking it though, and he popped the top off the bottle.

"W-What are you doing, Usagi-san?"

When he heard the question, Akihiko raised an silvery eyebrow, but lowered it just as hastily. The younger did seem a little disoriented so he could understand that Misaki's brain wasn't working as well as it might another time. Sighing, he explained, "I don't wish to hurt you, Misaki, thus…"

He tipped the glass bottle, angling it downward so that gravity would lend its assistance. Some of the oil sloshed out into the royal's palm through the thin funnel and he quickly ran the hand over the length of his jutting erection, coating the swollen length as best as he could. He would have preferred using regular lubricant but he had entirely no patience stored within him to wait long enough to retrieve some from wherever in the house it was kept. In this situation, creativity was essential.

Akihiko knew that he was being a bit brusque, but he was overwrought, finally getting to taste of his beloved, the boy having given him at least a chance. He would do anything he could to take that gift and extend it, until at last it was no longer a favor, but a true desire in Misaki's heart that he could give his affection to the prince to cherish. He wanted that more than anything.

"Time's up."

The elder man shifted into a more harmonious position, one hand digging into Misaki's hip to hold him still, and the other to help guide his inflamed desire to the haven it sought, crown of his rod poking firmly against the puckered hole. Akihiko pushed forth, gently breaking beyond the first line of resistance and beginning to slide more fluidly, pistoning cautiously against the boy, who was silent except for wispy sucks of air as he tried to relax his body for intrusion.

Akihiko gave a healthy grunt of a cry when he succeeded in cradling himself fully, taking a pause to allow Misaki to accustom to the girth of his instrument stretching his passage wider, and luxuriating in the unique heat that surrounded him.

He dipped one arm around the boy's slender frame and grasped his reawakened penis, giving it a few encouraging pumps. Misaki groaned lowly, but Akihiko also felt the boy's weight tremble in front of him. He cooed a few sweet words into Misaki's ear, hoping to soothe the brunette, and this play earned him a faint relaxing of the other's body, a humble jutting back of Misaki against him that enticed him to the very core. For a time he was lost in sensory paradise, beginning to hammer up into the other's narrow confines, pace increasing steadily. The more Akihiko experienced, the more stirred up he felt.

Misaki didn't know what to think. His body was quivering all over at the older man's attentions, hot, guilty pleasure coursing throughout. This wasn't supposed to feel good with someone you didn't love; that was what he had always been taught, growing up. When he had given his innocence to Haruhiko, he had feelings for the man, so that was why he rationalized the pleasure then of their lovemaking.

The feelings Misaki felt were totally different than what he had expected. The feel of the elder's mouth on him had felt wonderful, even though he didn't love the prince. While the feeling of Akihiko's need within him was mildly uncomfortable, it wasn't unbearable. Misaki figured the lack of wonderful that was occurring was to the difference in style. Whereas Haru was tender and reverent, Akihiko was passionate and demanding.

"U-Usag-g-i!" he squeaked out in desperation, trying futilely to catch a full breath. The other male was driving him hard now, but slipping against his pleasure spot on every second thrust, which abated the roughness to a perfect degree.

Misaki recorded Akihiko's masculine grunts as he pounded his arousal deep within the confines it sought. The youth was riddled with a curious jolt of arousal when he listened closely to them, and the brunette pushed his palms into the glossy granite surface of the counter, trying to steady out his body as he was bent flat over it and given a series of rattling thrusts.

Akihiko was in heaven and could feel himself on the verge of falling over the precipice. Soon he'd be marking the youth as his own, a desire he had every intention in repeating over and over again until the boy was his. There was no way in hell he could give up Misaki now, not after feeling him surround his very essence.

"Usa-a-gi-san," Misaki called out, tears misting in the corners of his vibrant eyes. The prince fell more in love with him just from that look. "I'm not…not!" He couldn't even get the words out.

The prince pulled the boy up and held onto him for dear life as he drove into him like mad. "Me either," he breathed into Misaki's ear in a husky tone.

Within moments of speaking both men came, and hard. Akihiko called out Misaki's name, while Misaki couldn't even string two coherent thoughts together.

And that was it. Moments after jettisoning his seed into the accepting canal of the boy, he pulled out, and looked at Misaki, who looked a little lost, sitting on the counter top. Neither had an opportunity to say anything though before a knock was heard on the back door of the kitchen. Without another thought, the prince put his spent length back into his trousers and zipped himself up. He then helped Misaki dress and make himself presentable for whoever was at the door.

**. . . . .**

After speaking to the courier at the door regarding papers for Haruhiko-sama, the prince took his leave and left Misaki to look around the kitchen in confusion. Just moments prior he'd had that place clean, now it looked like a tornado had hit again. Without thinking he started to pick up the varied debris that had fallen to the floor, having an intrinsic need to set the room aright again.

Then, he stopped and looked at the counter. Instead of batter for a cake, there was white, creamy cum flecking the surface. Misaki didn't know who it had come from since he had climaxed at least twice. _He couldn't tell anymore_. A wetness was soon felt in his pants as he realized that the prince's essence was leaking from his body and falling down his leg. That was all it took for Misaki to black out for a moment until another sense brought him back into waking life.

A poignant scent broached his nasal canal, causing the youth to snap out of the daze he had been mired in. The smell of burning.. something. Somewhere.

Quickly, he remembered the cake baking in the oven, and he nearly cursed, scurrying over to the appliance to retrieve the confection before it set off any of the smoke alarms in the vicinity. That sort of disruption would only further agitate him at a time when he was full up on problems and low on solutions or cognizance of his surroundings. Misaki was running mostly on autopilot at this point; it was like the trouble was building up inside - waiting to come crashing down when he had time enough to let it.

He yanked open the door of the oven, grimacing at the horrific war-zone he was soon presented with. What was intended to be a cake had been reduced to a charcoal colored, cirrhotic mess, the batter hardened and hopelessly mangled. Crumbs and burnt filling littered the floor of the heated compartment, and inwardly Misaki sighed, knowing it was going to be one hellish task to clean it out later. Frustrated, he gave up for the moment and shut it back off again after dragging the pan out of the bottom tray and placing on top of the inactive burners on the stove. As a final measure he canceled the baking setting, preventing the detritus left behind from getting broiled any further. It was a total loss.

Standing there, staring blankly around the scene of his earlier indiscretion, Misaki felt those feelings coming surging in like a tidal wave, and he stumbled despite having tripped over nothing but air. He wisely put out his hand and switched to leaning against the nearby wall to stay upright in the onset. His mind struggled with the defining of what he had just been party to. He knew in his heart what it was, but he was so scared to actually think those words to himself that when they came, the youth trembled in the wake of acknowledgement.

For whatever flimsy reason at the time, he had just had... relations with the prince. Inappropriate relations.

He had tainted his honor by allowing that to take place.

He had cheated on Haruhiko-san, something that he had even sworn would never happen.

And yet he was so irresolute that he had allowed it to occur anyway.

Misaki's stomach roiled violently, intensely nauseating the youth, and he flew hurriedly out of the kitchen and straight toward the bathroom, one chamber over.

Tearing open the door that separated him from the place, Misaki hastened into the room with both hands covering his mouth just in case. His cheeks were puffed with the effort of holding back the onslaught, and he wanted nothing more than to purge himself of the acidic backlash before he became sicker. The stress he was under compounded with the unpleasant smell of the burnt cake, but, in the end, he'd name the former as the larger cause of his queasiness.

As soon as he reached the blessed place he immediately bent over it and began heaving up his gut, vomit cascading painfully toward the drain. Tears beaded at the corners of his eyes from the pure force of the reaction, and he clung to the edge of the counter like a support, frame aching even after the reflux came to a stilted, shuddering end a minute or so later.

Misaki groaned pitifully, lifting up his head. His face felt feverish, the heat ingraining into his skin in a way that made it feel almost itchy, needing to be cooled. An acrid taste lingered in his mouth, and he involuntarily salivated, his body trying to rid him of the unpleasant sensation. He could perceive it even up into his nose, which burned as well after emptying the contents of his stomach, oral muscles having slackened in the act to allow the bile to rise up to that level. All things considered, he felt awful. Physically and emotionally, at this point.

His elbows quaked, perched on the blunt sink edge, and he straightened up his back, slowly regaining mental function. First things first, he could at least clean up, and then go from there.

Misaki glanced at himself in the mirror, but swiftly turned away from the reflection.

At this time, he wasn't quite sure he liked what he saw there.

**.**

**.**

**END CHAPTER.**


	13. Defeat

  
**(** June 27th, 2012 **)**  


* * *

 

Miyagi tilted his head up and peered out the nearby window, examining what he could of the outside through mildly fogged glass panes. The rain was starting to reach a torrential stage, and the more he looked, the glummer his mien became. Storms always brought more trouble than they were worth in his opinion, and he wasn't looking forward to having to battle through it on the commute home. People themselves were the most bothersome aspect on these occasions, driving without wisdom and causing a big hubbub in the city limits.

No, it wasn't going to be something pleasant.

Still, he couldn't avoid it, and so he was determined to be productive for the time being.

That determination lasted all of the next half hour, whereupon it crumbled into a more lackadaisical existence. It seemed like today was one of the days Miyagi was cursed with no enduring focus, and so he set aside the draft he had been evaluating and let out a sigh.

It was the middle of the week and it was already this quiet. That had to be a sign.

If he gave it some thought, he supposed that the summer sessions were always less busy, but even that didn't account for the level of emptiness in the atmosphere surrounding him. Something was off, or perhaps missing. That question, however, was a tangent he didn't feel like exploring too far at the current time, and one he probably already knew the answer to, were he not so stubborn as to ignore the solution.

As he stretched his shoulders and yawned, the office door swung open behind him, admitting his new assistant into the room.

Kamijou and he had collaborated in the past on some larger projects, but it wasn't until now that the man worked with him on a regular basis. It seemed the lordling was angling to make a transition from being the royal advisor into the professorial world. On paper, one might wonder why a person would give up such a cushy position for that of being a mere teacher, but, knowing Kamijou, Miyagi understood that literature was the other's great passion in life, so it didn't seem strange after considering that factor. Thus far, he'd been a big help, and, lately, Miyagi was learning what other benefit there was to having the brunette around.

And that was that said underling was easy to rile. It certainly broke up the monotony that sometimes enveloped his life in a stranglehold.

"Sweet Kamijou!" he hailed cheerfully, "and here I was, just wondering when you'd come back to me!"

Hiroki paused just in front of his desk, primly setting down a stack of manila folders burgeoning with paper. He seemed to be attempting to let the greeting roll off his back, which was something rather new. Instead, he said nothing in response and then started clearing up everything in an usual end of the day ritual, completely unfazed. Pulling his briefcase up on top of the workspace, he neatly put the folders inside.

"Why so quiet, Hiroki, were the kids mean to you today? Or, is it something more... personal~?" Miyagi grinned, sure he had the other ensnared this time.

"Maybe something to do with that new friend of yours? You two break up?"

"I fail to see how anything I do outside of this campus is any of your concern, Professor Miyagi."

"Now, now, you can tell me your woes. Lay it on me."

"I'm not staying to have a heart-to-heart. I'm going home."

"At least don't leave me worried about you, Kamijou, what's deepening those cute frown lines on your face?"

"Incorrigible people... going after things that they shouldn't," Hiroki answered cryptically, heaving a fatigued sigh. He swiftly picked up his supplies and coat. "I'm leaving now. Get some work done."

And, summarily as a whirlwind, Miyagi found himself alone in the office once again.

He did have to wonder about his co-worker's misgivings, but, he decided he would respect the other's privacy for the time being. Hiroki had sounded weary, truly weary, and Miyagi wasn't that insensitive of a person that he'd try to worsen the situation. In fact, he sincerely hoped that whatever the problem was, his fiery assistant would soon find the proper solution to cure it. Kamijou just wasn't the same without that natural inner spark that he possessed.

With new weights on his mind, and old weights lurking in the backdrop, Miyagi returned to viewing the storm outside, feeling his attention dwindle with every natural breath-

_The younger melted easily into his embrace, lean body pressed snugly up against his own. His hand pulled Shinobu's head closer, and then their eyes locked. The only thought that floated through his mind at that moment was a basic one, warmth. Looking deeply into the other's expectant gaze, he was flooded with the sensation, synapses firing faster at even just holding him._

_Shinobu turned his head, shyly moving forward and pressing a kiss at his cheek. Miyagi's eyes widened, but yet the scene continued to play out. A need was growing, one that he didn't rightly understand, but an impulse he knew that he would carry out regardless._

_Controlling once more, he changed the quiet dynamic, firmly claiming Shinobu's lips with his own. From the first instant that they met, he was lost. He kept trying in vain to pull back, but he remained, nipping at the rosy skin when simpler touches were no longer enough. The actions drew a quiet whine out of the boy, little gasps and noises of approval emitting in honeyed strains. His hand fastened into the thick of the other's hair, not desirous of wasting any chance of connection._

_The symphony slowly grew to slick as he was permitted to slip his tongue where none other had been before, caressing and mapping each and every surface._

_When he came up for air, Shinobu's face was hosting an expression he knew he had never seen on the younger man's face before, one of surprise, of pure joy as well. The blond simply stared back at him as if he never wanted to look away, and, in a quiet, but sure tone, Shinobu imparted, "Miyagi, I love you."  
_

_A simple phrase but one that devastated him, the thoughts in his head splintering in all directions. His own impulses were a whorl of uncertainty, being touched, and a little curious all in all. Miyagi collected his words as best as he could to try to explain that, but, when he attempted to, nothing emitted. The silence at first stymied him, catching Miyagi off guard at a moment where he wanted to be sure to have it all together. If he could just tell Shinobu his thoughts, then at least things would be better-  
_

_He opened his mouth again, determined, but once more only silence reverberated this plane. Miyagi glanced back at the boy, whose expression had not diminished, but taken on a fervor of some hope as wise gray eyes pondered the elder's activity, as if knowing already the man's intentions, as if their owner was, in fact, more aware of Miyagi than the man was of himself. As if Shinobu already knew what was trying to issue forth from his tongue.  
_

_Giving the endeavor up as a failure, he altered his tactics, reeling in the other for a sound embrace, arms giving the answer his voice seemingly could not provide.  
_

' _Shinobu, I-_ '

 

* * *

Blinking in utter confusion, Miyagi took in the environs of his office, silently thankful to be in a familiar place when he was feeling otherwise disoriented.

He huffed and pulled on the collar of his shirt, trying to banish the dream from his memory. It was rattling him more than he liked to admit, making careless thoughts embed into the front of his mind, wondering if there could be any other way to interpret that dream than the obvious explanation. Generally, as far as that went, when you dreamed of a person in that way, it meant that you wanted to be closer to them. Not necessarily in a romantic sense, but simply... closer. But what was it about Shinobu that his subconscious seemed to be prodding him towards?

Sitting up in his desk chair, the man took stock of his situation. It was becoming obvious that he could no longer pretend the other was having no affect on him. If Shinobu was already invading his dreams as well, that meant some part of him wanted to listen to the boy. Just why, though?

The youth was akin to a stray cat, wandering in when he pleased and soliciting for attention. He claimed that he was in love with him, even bandying about the suggestion, or, rather, proposal that they marry. From a logical standpoint, it was ludicrous... no, no it wasn't. Shinobu was young, but with the temerity of, not to mention the constant nature of his confessions, it was bordering on impossible that Shinobu didn't know what, or who he wanted. Incredibly, that seemed to be Miyagi. No, denial was no longer a viable escape route from the reality.

Miyagi put one hand on his head, frustrated.

For a little over a week, that opinion had been dominating over his previous stance of denial. Shinobu was serious on his end of things, he could settle on that much as truth. The problem was that, for him, his thoughts had been shifting to the point where he was starting to worry that he'd wind up doing something he wasn't sure was the right thing. If judging from his dream, that would be to ravage the younger, but, the scary thing was that the dream hadn't felt aggressive. Showing that sort of affection had felt natural, pleasant even. He could still feel a residual excitement radiating through his heart, the organ beating stronger than it had ever before.

Something was transpiring strangely inside of him. Something that Miyagi didn't quite comprehend. What was it that he wanted to do with Shinobu, really?

Weary eyes glanced over woefully to the wall clock and appreciatively noted the later hour. It appeared he'd dozed off with this startling vision for longer than it would seem like. Now he could start for home if he wanted to. And, with the way the day had been going, there was no question of wanting to.

 

* * *

Before he could entirely escape though, there seemed to be one last trial in store.

After he had locked up the office behind him and started walking through the halls towards the car park, it hadn't been long before he had run into another person in the mostly quiet passageway, and a rather important person at that. Upon spotting Miyagi, the dean had flagged him down to talk, and the professor had to oblige, even if his mind was on getting home - and a little embarrassed considering this was the father of one brat who had recently been engaged in a sultry dream of his. No, it seemed his luck was not with him when he ran across his superior.

Shinobu's father was an impressive specimen, the sort of man who could rule with an iron fist if need be. Some might underestimate him, as, in less serious times he could come off as a bit of a soft person, given his well-mannered nature, but he hadn't made it to the position he was in without some competency. Being extremely well-born could only get a man so far in the educational sector. He was of an average sort of height, compact but strong, with hair that had gone entirely gray, and dark blue eyes; the same eye color of Miyagi's rather less personally collected ex-wife.

"Might you have seen that ridiculous son of mine?" the other entreated as he stepped closer.

Miyagi turned his gaze firmly on the dean, puzzled as to why the man would be asking him about his son's location, and also taken aback by the rough choice of words on his superior's part. Shouldn't he, as the kid's father, know better than him?

Secondarily, why did the guy seem so very agitated about Shinobu? Whatever it was, Miyagi had no idea, as with what little he saw of his would-be suitor, the younger never brought up any news of goings-on with his family.

Miyagi's expression seemed to speak as much, because a moment later the dean added, "We thought if anyone would know it would be you, Miyagi-san, since he's all but confessed his intention in tying you down."

Shinobu's father coughed at the end of the statement, looking vaguely uneasy about the prospect of that. In the professor's head however, it came as more a stumbling block. Shinobu didn't seem like the shy type, necessarily, but it still surprised Miyagi that the kid would have volunteered his intentions to his parents (and possibly his sister as well). That he had meant that Shinobu was very serious about what he wanted, and none too concerned about their opinions, which, clearly were not favorable.

"Sir?" he inquired politely, seeking some further clarification.

As it stood he wasn't certain he quite understood what the man was asking about any more, because though he had brought up where Shinobu was, the way he was speaking almost seemed as if he wanted something else. Such as Miyagi's denial that Shinobu was avidly courting him, and perhaps an agreement with the dean that the idea was unfathomable. Miyagi remained decidedly mum on that point, however, letting his boss lead the conversation instead. That was a conversation that hadn't even seriously happened between Shinobu and he, at least, not successfully. The brat was as persistent as he always had been.

"You mean my son hasn't been coming to visit with you?" The older looked mildly alarmed at this revelation.

Miyagi scratched at his head. "No, he has not. Not lately, that is, in fact it's been a little over a week since the last time he and I met, and even that was for a few hours at the most. Sir, is something going on? Why are you concerned?"

"Shinobu hasn't been coming home." Dean Takatsuki looked rather annoyed when he admitted his ignorance to the boy's whereabouts, "For the past month or so... he left after an argument we had and we haven't been able to track him down to know where he's been staying, or if he's all right. We just want him to return home. We can put this little matter behind us once he apologizes to his mother and admits his selfishness..."

The academic scrutinized Miyagi carefully then, eyes beaded, as if wanting to ask a question, but his expression spoke that he decided not to.

"Well, if he does get in touch with you at any time, tell him we need to speak with him. Better still, also let me know that you've made contact, and if you find out where he's been laying low."

Miyagi nodded, almost imperceptibly, and then exchanged the appropriate parting words with his boss before continuing on his way home.

The strangest thing of all was, when he had heard that last order, he had even thought of not obeying it.

 

* * *

"Sosumi Road to Haname Avenue: 30 minutes travel time."

Miyagi sighed in defeat as he read over the warning sign; just as he'd feared, the streets were not a place to be in a storm like this. Being realistic, it might take another hour before enough of the traffic had filtered to make commuting reasonable again. And, if he was going to have to wait an hour, he'd rather be comfortable doing it, preferably indoors. The central train station was nearby, and hosted a resplendent waiting area, so it was as good a place as any to do his time. He'd just turn his car around and head over that way instead.

If all else went wrong, he could take a train out closer to his home and then walk whatever distance remained. One of his staff could venture out to retrieve the vehicle later, or he could just do it the next day when he was on his way back from work. There were options in this situation, thankfully.

He enacted his plan, diverting out of the gridlock and onto an alternate road that would swing him back by the depot where he would wait out the twin storms, that of the rain, and that of lunatic drivers.

Ten minutes later, Miyagi was safely claiming a spot in the car park and bracing himself as he crossed the short distance out of the weather and into the grand old building that was the modern center of comings-and-goings within the capitol walls. Any trains traveling through passed underground to escape the palatial city, of which the only other exits were the northern and southern gates, where foot and vehicular traffic left and entered.

To the south lay the commoner's district, Hitofugemamo, to the north another neighborhood of the noblesse, Hitofugetsu. He himself lived a bit further out than either diverticula of the main city. There just hadn't seemed much point in getting a home closer to the capitol when, at most, it was an hour's commute to the seat of his family estate. That was a bit long, admittedly, but manageable.

Once sheltered inside the place, though, the academic found that he was due for his second surprise of the day when he spotted one unshakably familiar blond head hanging out within one of the larger waiting areas within the station, the one where he'd planned to hunker down. Upon noticing the boy, Miyagi did what was the polite thing to do and walked over to greet Shinobu, only, once he came close enough to speak, his words weren't as neutral as he could have hoped for.

Garnering the other's attention from the book he had been thumbing through as Miyagi approached, the man began with a firm statement, "Shinobu, you shouldn't be out in a storm like this."

Shinobu hardly thought Miyagi had any business bossing him around as if he was his _guardian_ or something similar, especially not with the way the old man acted to him on a regular basis, so it wasn't shocking that the forthright male didn't take kindly to the sentiment. Tucking his reading into the backpack at his side, Shinobu took his time replying to the brusque line, only deigning to answer when he was settled in his seat once more.

"I'm perfectly able to look after myself," the younger insisted, shooting him a cool expression and crossing one leg over the other where he sat. "I was waiting out the rain here before I continued home, like any reasonable person would know to do."

Miyagi frowned in response, a small irritation starting to grow at the brat's snappy attitude. Still, if the truth was what he thought it was, he wanted to get down to the bottom of the situation and, possibly, resolve it somehow. They may no longer be able to claim a family bond, but for some forsaken reason he felt responsible for Shinobu and didn't fully comprehend why. Regardless, he would get involved.

"I heard this afternoon from your father that you're no longer staying at home," he stated calmly but firm, a deeper intonation to his voice giving the air that he wouldn't allow the issue to blow over. Figuring that it wouldn't be a quick chat whether the teen cooperated or not, Miyagi went closer and took the chair beside him, setting down his bag on the floor next to his feet. "Do you mind explaining what's going on with that?"

"They're the ones who made me leave, not the other way around, if that's what you've thought."

Miyagi answered back in a steadfast manner, calmly assuring, "I wasn't implying anything, Shinobu; I asked you a question and I wanted you to tell me the answer."

Beside the man, Shinobu went silent, thumbing through his recollections and thoughts to decide on what he might say to that.

It was entirely true that his parents hadn't wanted him to stick around after the night he'd made his future intentions clear. In retrospect his words were harsh, but he had honestly spoken his mind. Even though he had been frustrated with their lack of support, they were still his family, and the boy had waited dutifully, hoping in the back of his mind that they might change their opinion, set aside their anger, allow him back into the fold. He couldn't understand sympathizing with one of your children, as they had seemed to with his sister, and casting out the other - him. It didn't seem fair, in the end.

Back then it had shocked Shinobu that his mother had been the one to lay a hand to him. When he was smaller, he had felt a sort of affinity with her, more so than his father, which was saying something given neither were particularly forward with their affections, even with relatives. Had her allegiance shifted? Was he really so outrageous in his behavior? These were some of the things Shinobu had been pondering the entire month now that he had been apart from his family.

There were no easy answers, as, when he argued it out in his head, his constant reason for having acted the way he did was Miyagi. There was no budging on that matter, no compromise. Even if the man didn't seem to care for him in that way, maybe not yet, maybe not in this lifetime, the fact remained that Shinobu loved him. Those feelings would never fizzle out, and so if they became a roadblock in the other relationships he held in life, even if it severed them, that would be what happened before he gave up on his heart's desire.

Yes, that was why he had left in the first place. If the truth was what the elder wanted, then Shinobu could sum it up exactly like that. However, there were other matters to consider before he could go ahead and impart that information.

The relationship between the two of them was currently awkward. Just over a week ago, Shinobu had started again in trying to make a case for Miyagi's attention. They had shared a meal, and, near the end of that day, it had felt almost warm. As if a glimmer of hope had come into being. The expression the man had worn when Shinobu had confessed that time was unlike any other face the youth had been party to before, and it made him wonder if maybe something was changing for the other in a positive lean.

The way Shinobu felt about it at the time was that Miyagi was waking up from a deep sleep as far as his heart was concerned. To his knowledge the elder had never been in love, despite having been wed at one point, and, for all his years and wisdom, that was not something a person could learn from a book.

Since then, however, he had had no contact with the man, and that led him to believe that he had been mistaken. Miyagi always dropped the ball when he reached out to him, and after so long it was discouraging. Didn't he realize that they always found their way back to each other in the end? He could offer today as an example. Shinobu hadn't even intended to meet with Miyagi, but the other had walked into the same place where Shinobu had been hanging around, apparently on a random whim.

It was as if there was a draw between them, only Miyagi didn't seem to want to recognize that.

"Honestly? My father heard from some busybody that I had asked for permission to marry you, and I confirmed that I did. It escalated because they couldn't accept that and tried to tell me what I could and couldn't do. I... I was _angry_ at my sister, for how she treated you back then, and I mentioned that... that's when my mother hit me. After that, it was obvious that I was no longer welcome, so I left there to stay with a friend." Shinobu finished his story glumly, hands settling onto the edges of the chair he was seated in and staking a grip there.

Next to him, Miyagi wasn't sure what to take away from the short exposition. In his stupor, he latched onto what was probably the wrong part of the narrative to analyze, and, with a stern voice, issued a reproof, "Your sister may have done what she did in our marriage, but that is between us and only us. You don't need to go around and play judge, to make certain she gets what you _feel_ is a proper punishment. It may not have been ethical, but she is human, and your family, Shinobu, you should care more about that bond."

"What about how I feel about you, Miyagi? Would _you_ be able to stay out of it if something wrong happened to the person you love? Can you really just turn your feelings off like that? If someone hurt me like that, wouldn't you care? What about our relationship?"

Shinobu's eyes were blazing with a sudden fire that Miyagi didn't think he had ever seen in the other's stare before. Whatever was going on inside the boy's mind seemed to be riling him up in various directions; simultaneously he seemed close to ire, close to misery as well. Emotions seemed to be spilling out of the rapid fire response, a flood he could not himself stymie. What to do with the words, he had no conception.

Trying in vain, he uttered, "I would care, but that still doesn't-"

There was a flurry of movement after he spoke, cutting off the entire statement he had been formulating. Shinobu quickly stood up, grabbing his backpack by the top strap, and, inexplicably, started marching toward the exit without even hearing him fully out.

Dumbfounded, and a little pissed now on top of that, Miyagi hastily gathered up his own belongings and started tearing after the kid, who was on the verge of making it outside the train station and into the small alleyway that lived between the main building and an ancillary one next door. The cold weather and the increasing darkness in the sky made it an unfavorable place to be, but something about the situation had pushed Shinobu into a flight response, and this was apparently the end point of that response.

It was there in the cramped space that Miyagi caught up to the younger man, who had stopped nearly at the end of the alley, bag placed on the ground once more as if he had decided he'd gone far enough.

"I... don't understand," began Shinobu bleakly, facing the downpour. "Why it is that I have to be in love with an idiot like you. You won't ever look at me that way, will you? How can it be that nothing I do gets through to you?"

Hearing that from the other made Miyagi feel like a cruel person. If he settled down to think about it, his feelings toward Shinobu were... they were more complicated than he would have liked them to be. Just by sheer virtue of that, he knew deep inside that he was running from a conclusion he had never considered could be the right one when Shinobu had first approached him. His defenses were weakening steadily, and the last vestiges of them he was clinging to half-heartedly at best. As to whether or not he could "look at" the youth in that way; he already was beginning to, and it terrified him, a man nearly twice this bold brat's age.

He exhaled mournfully, a bit at a loss, and turned his gaze from the gravel below, and straight onto the renewed gaze of Shinobu, who looked irresolute standing there, watching Miyagi try to figure everything on the spot. Shinobu could feel the fragility of those thoughts, and, whatever happened, he came to a decision that he would try as hard as he could, to the very end.

"Here."

Shinobu stepped closer and thrust a paper at him, and Miyagi immediately noticed that it was a photograph, crumpled slightly from wear and torn along one border.

He chuckled, awkwardly, taking in the image of Shinobu and he standing side by side, both dressed in formal wear. "Well you're... nearly smiling. When was this taken?"

The blond glared. "You don't even remember your own wedding?" he deadpanned.

"Ah, that." Miyagi's response was clipped, and Shinobu decided not to delve too deep into the subject, despite his incredulity. It wasn't a favorite event of his to relive, either, for obvious reasons.

"I... It's... I always keep it with me," the younger stammered out a few moments later as Miyagi was taking a better glance at the photo.

Miyagi's eyes widened when he realized that his ex had been torn out of the photo and the remaining persons in the photo happened to be him and the kid. So... Shinobu had carried around a photo of the two of them for years? Inside, Miyagi could feel his ribcage quake as his heart pounded into his chest. Such a small gesture it was, but it was actually one of the most thoughtful things anyone had ever done concerning him.

He glanced up at Shinobu, who looked like he was walking a fine line between crying and being pissed off. How anyone could show both emotions so clearly was beyond him. Clearly Shinobu was someone who thought with his heart and not with his head, which complimented Miyagi, who thought with his head and not with his heart.

No thought was even present as he reached over and pulled the boy close, sealing his mouth on his in a confused kiss. Shinobu made a guttural sound as Miyagi shoved his tongue into his mouth and started to use it to map out the interior. Surprised didn't come close to describing how he felt at the action from the older man. Miyagi, for his part, was trying to figure out why he hadn't done the kissing thing with Shinobu earlier.

Inside, deep within his heart, Shinobu wanted nothing more than to melt into Miyagi's embrace and let the man carry him off to a bedroom where they could spend the better part of the next few days making love with one another. It had been a dream so wanted that Shinobu wasn't sure how to say no.

But...while his heart was completely in the moment, his head was not. Miyagi had told him that he didn't like men; that he didn't like Shinobu in that way. Even if he was acting out of desperation right now, Miyagi was going to regret the action later and Shinobu wanted to be safe from that type of hurt.

If Miyagi could have seen the despair in Shinobu's eyes, he may have backed off. So he wasn't prepared for what came next.

Shinobu's hands reached upward and shoved against his chest, suddenly, and he began to squirm, trying to escape from the grasp. The elder, surprised by this rebuttal and also by his own idiot actions took a step back, releasing the boy as he did.

"Don't fuck with me!" was the curse shrieked back at him as the world came back into focus. "If you don't really care, then stop it! Just stop it...!"

The yelling swiftly turned did a u-turn in inflection, and Miyagi could only watch silently as fat tears budded in the corner of the other's eyes, worse than before. Shinobu took a step away from him into the alley, that step bringing just into the reach of the downpour they had previously been trying to avoid. Rain started dotting the other's clothes and hair, and as much as he wanted to coax Shinobu back out of the weather, he feared the other too fragile for him to intervene.

Miyagi put one hand to his head, scrunching his eyes out of disbelief at how he could have allowed himself to go through with something so impulsive and stupid. Simply because it had been in a daydream earlier, and because the urge had burgeoned seconds ago didn't mean it was a good idea to go and put hands on this young man. No. If anything it had only worsened the situation.

Shinobu didn't know whether to run away or stand his ground.

After all that time, pining for the man, he'd managed to elicit the response he'd wanted, but he'd been pushed away so often, he didn't know what to believe anymore. He glanced up at Miyagi with tears swimming in his eyes. That sight made Miyagi feel horrible, but also gave him a glimmer of hope when he realized that the emotion he felt when seeing Shinobu cry _wasn't_ pity. It was something decidedly stronger, and acknowledging its existence in a few seconds clarified the fog that had been surrounding him. In that moment he thought he understood a hell of a lot better what was going on inside his own heart.

He walked purposefully toward the other, who was standing as still as a statue, uncertain of his motivation, and staring right through him with spooked gray eyes. Convicted by the youth's seeming willingness to hear him out, even if the boy was frightened of what he might say, Miyagi simply embraced him, turning them both around so that Shinobu was back under the eave of the building, and out of the rain's trajectory.

Despite what his profession may hint at, Miyagi knew that sometimes words were something he could muck up, and, for just that blink of time he remained silent, squeezing Shinobu firmly as they rested against the brick wall of the train station, both a little anxious and both a little confused still of where they were headed.

He bent his head and rested it upon one shaking shoulder that slowly gave way to easing up as Shinobu felt safe to relax within the cocoon of his arms.

"I do apologize."

"Just be honest with me, Miyagi," was the soft reply that brushed past his ear. He had to be taken aback; he'd never heard Shinobu sound so tender, and hadn't even known that tone of voice was possible from the one who was normally surer, more bold. "I've tried, but I won't understand until you spell out for me what's going on."

The elder lifted his gaze from the shoulder of Shinobu's sweater to peer into the other's forlorn visage.

He summoned his courage, something he had far less of than the one he was about to commit to, and stated with abandon, "I love you, Shinobu."

"I only hope that you can forgive me, because I know I've kind of been a complete ass up until now."

Shinobu sighed near to him, fingers digging into the elder's shoulders, seeking a further closeness.

"So make it up to me then, idiot," he muttered self-consciously.

Inside though, Shinobu could have very well been exploding from the intangible feelings that soared within him upon hearing Miyagi's admission. It was the culmination of something that he had held onto for years, and, rather than making a huge fuss over the occasion, all Shinobu wanted, all he really _needed_ , was to feel the other. That was enough of a blessing for him. No fireworks or shouting from the rooftops were necessary.

Instead of forcing the kid to do something he clearly wasn't ready for, Miyagi thought that he'd be better off starting at the beginning. The kid, as he'd learned from said kid's old man, had left his house. At the very least, one overzealous professor could offer a place to stay.

"Shinobu-chin, by no means would you want to come home with this old man, would you?"

"It depends," Shinobu began, acting guarded in a way that incited Miyagi to believe the youth was actually teasing him, a demeanor he hadn't expected to see, "by what coming home with you means."

"I _mean_ coming home to stay," the elder clarified, "I don't know what you've been doing ever since you left your parents', but if you're truly unhappy there, it'd be best for you to live somewhere else, at least until you can resolve the issues that are between you and them. Also, if you are, as you say, very determined on you and I being together, co-habiting for a time is a fine idea, isn't it?"

There, nothing in that bout of talking could be construed as untoward.

Shinobu thought for a moment. Miyagi's offer was something he'd have jumped at the chance for at one point in the last month. Now he couldn't really focus. His mind was still on the kiss from moments prior and in truth, he really wanted to taste the man again. After his little outburst, though, he knew that he needed to wait at least a few more minutes before taking some initiative of his own.

"You don't mind?" he asked, intelligently. "I don't want to put you out."

Miyagi chortled. "I have more than enough room for you and I to share my home, Shinobu-chin. In all honesty, I can't think of anyone else I'd want to share my home with right now anyway."

The words 'right now' rung in Shinobu's head like a siren and he couldn't hold back anymore. "What happens if..." He didn't get the rest of the words out. To hell with 'right now.' He'd make Miyagi see that 'right now' was going to be for the rest of their lives.

Without another thought, Shinobu closed the distance between him and Miyagi and pulled the elder's face toward his. A surprised squeak came from Miyagi, but when their lips touched again, that squeak turned into a moan, the reverberation of which caused Shinobu's bones to feel the tingling sensations that were coursing throughout his body. Going home with Miyagi was just the first step.

Sure, he'd need to leave Isaka's place, but that was worth it if Miyagi were in the same house as he.

**.**

**.**

**END CHAPTER.**


	14. Ascendancy

  
**(** June 27th, 2012 **)**  


* * *

 

"I've been staying here since I left my parents' house."

"Are you sure that's all right?"

"Isaka is my friend; of course it's fine. I've known him for years, and they took me in when I told them what happened."

"They?"

"He and his husband. I've been hanging around here with them and helping out with their kids sometimes."

After a rather heated make-out session that very well could have escalated had someone not sneezed, Miyagi was made privy to where Shinobu had been living and where to go to collect his things.

The drive to the house was quick and while the professor was a little nervous about entering another's dwelling, he also knew that the kid might need moral support in leaving. The way Shinobu had spoken of Isaka-san made it sound like the man had Shinobu's best interests at heart. That in and of itself made him and Miyagi kindred spirits, even if they'd never met.

The two walked to the back door and entered. Within moments of shutting the door another sounds hit two pairs of auditory sensors. The whirring sound of something as well as moaning. Miyagi wanted to pull Shinobu away, but the kid was slippery from the rain and walked right toward the noise without a care in the world. Rather than stand in the entryway, gawking, Miyagi followed. He ran into Shinobu, who had soon stopped short in the doorway of the kitchen.

In the room were two men, clearly in a compromising position, using an outside force to participate in sexual behavior. Neither of the deviants were aware they were being watched as they continued on in their sexual explorations of one another. Hands and tongues were being used in various areas, as well as a vibrating toy, given as a present to the couple by Kisa Shouta and his husband.

Asahina had the toy in his hand and was using it in an almost punishing way; not quite touching the skin of the man writhing on all fours in front of him. He loved the feel of Isaka being under his control. He was methodically rolling the device along the fevered length of Isaka's erection, sending the electrical pulses jumping from it to the flesh that was crying out for some means of stimulation. Isaka had not a care for anything else in the world, groaning out richly and pushing back on his spouse's persistent tongue.

The pair who intruded upon this clearly private occasion were gobsmacked. Not quite as much though as the perpetrators, once they sensed that they were no longer alone in the room. No one could have looked more embarrassed as the married pair did initially, caught in flagrante delicto. The two separated from their position rather quickly, jumping apart and trying vainly to somehow look more innocent than they did.

Inevitably, they failed at that.

"Well this is a fine scene to have walked in on," Shinobu commented flatly a few moments later, eyes sharply surveying said scene with a modicum of disapproval. "A fine first impression for this one to have seen also," at those words, he jabbed a finger back at Miyagi, indicating that 'this one' was indeed him.

Frankly though, Miyagi was too shocked to even take offense at the less than endearing phrase he was being quantified as.

His gaze fixed feebly on the other two males in the room, not certain who he was more concerned for, his own embarrassment or the horror of thinking that Shinobu might have been exposed to lechery on a daily basis. Not that the kid was perfectly innocent to begin with, but, still, he _was_ of a tender age. It was hard enough to reconcile his own neoteric desires toward the youth without worrying about what other people were injecting into his mind.

Asahina coughed uncomfortably, hands falling away from his husband. He then sensitively apologized, "I am sorry you had to witness it. If you will excuse us for a moment, we will make ourselves more presentable."

"Any other day, and I'd say give us a few hours so we could finish, but, since you have an important guest Shinobu, I guess a moment will do. Don't get into any trouble yourself while you wait," Isaka teased as he sauntered his way out of the kitchen like a peacock, disappearing leisurely after Asahina into one of the next rooms. Truth be told the lord was getting some strange notions in his head, inferring incorrectly that Shinobu had brought Miyagi home for similar activities to what he and the old ball and chain had just been caught doing.

Once the two were completely behind closed doors, Miyagi found his voice and coughed slightly to clear his throat.

"Those two haven't... in front of you, I mean?" he inquired, a little worried to hear the answer.

Shinobu rolled his eyes, knowing that Miyagi was certainly letting his thoughts run away with him in this instance. "No, they have more common sense than that. I'm sure they weren't expecting me to come back this early."

Miyagi relaxed, wondering just how much of an education the brat had received at the hands of these two.

"Whatever it is you're thinking, you can stop!" Shinobu snapped suddenly. "Just because these two have an active and kinky sex life doesn't mean that they're into sharing one another with someone else!" Miyagi nodded peaceably and let the scene that was burned into his retinas find a nice recess in his mind where it could hide away and die. If the other was that adamant, he'd only be wasting energy trying to imagine the opposite of what the truth was.

Shinobu pulled the professor away from the room that had been used as a place of exploration and led him into a room off to the side. This room was similar to his own library, chalk-full of books and tidy. The main difference was there was an entire wall of children's books to the side.

"I read to their kids in here," Shinobu elaborated as he walked to a chair and sat down. "They're fond of fairy tales, especially Momotaro and Kaguya-Hime."

Miyagi questioned internally just where the brass kid youth had gone to when talking about children. Obviously Shinobu had a soft spot for kids if he was willing to sit and read to them for any length of time, and he could easily recall one of their earlier meetings, when Shinobu had told him his dreams about their own offspring that he wanted to have. Miyagi wasn't really sure if he could imagine all of that taking place, because he felt that parenthood was something you never really understood until you were in the thick of it, but he thought that maybe in the future, if it was with this person, it could work.

The two sat in communal silence until the two men returned, fully garbed. Miyagi had to admit, they looked quite a bit more respectable with their clothes on.

"Let me guess, Shinobu-tan, this is 'the one,'" Isaka chirped energetically, waltzing over and putting a friendly arm around the boy, who had just stood up.

"Yes, and he's invited me to stay with him," Shinobu said, not bothering to remove Isaka's hand. Off to the side, Miyagi was inundated with a curious sensation at hearing the other so casually acknowledge him. Hearing Shinobu say that about him to someone other than, well, him, did something to his heart that he couldn't fully explain.

"Did he now?" Isaka smirked and winked at his husband.

Asahina took this time to talk as an adult to an adult. "I presume you'll be taking his stuff today, or is this just a visit?"

Miyagi cleared his throat; he felt rather like a prom date picking up someone's little girl. "Shinobu is allowed to stay with me for as long as he'd like."

"Does that mean you plan on popping his little cherry?" Isaka queried playfully.

Shinobu grunted in a scandalized tone while Miyagi blushed at the notion.

"Cease, Ryuuichirou; Shinobu is old enough to make his own decisions and it doesn't concern either of us," Asahina announced sternly, earning a nice shot of his husband's tongue when the imp stuck it out at him. He then spoke to Miyagi again. "We should exchange personal information in the event something happens. I know that Takatsuki-kun is not on friendly terms with his parents, so if anything comes up, please don't hesitate to contact either Isaka or myself."

At least one of the two had some common decency about them, or so believed Miyagi. He agreed and the information was quickly exchanged.

Isaka, still velcro-ed to Shinobu's shoulder, maneuvered the boy toward Miyagi.

"You'd better take good care of my sweet Takatsuki-chan, because he's the sensitive type. If you don't, we'll have a problem." Isaka beamed at his own pronouncement, which was potentially the most unnerving part of it all.

Miyagi suppressed any discomfort he had at the man hanging off of Shinobu as if he owned the boy; it was nothing in the scheme of things, and he needed to be more mature than to get jealous over an innocuous action like that one. The other was married, and, unlike some people, apparently seemed to be very _content_ with his spouse, so there was no danger of the man being untoward.

Still, a certain unease lingered, and Miyagi grew more and more desirous of getting Shinobu packed up and home with him instead. Then, he could at least breathe a sigh of relief that things were on their way to being settled. It was unclear to him when his heart had began to grow anxious without the kid, but that was the reality of it now.

"That will be the day," Shinobu commented sharply. "If anyone's taking care of anyone, I'll be taking care of the old man, not the other way around."

"See?" Isaka added to Miyagi conversationally, over Shinobu's shoulder, "Sweet, just like I told you."

The professor nodded, uncomfortably.

 

* * *

"Welcome home, Miyagi-dono*, can we offer either you or your guest anything?"

The speaker was a diminutive lady of an advanced age, her hair so snowy white that Shinobu would have easily believed it if he had been told that she had been around even when Miyagi's _father_ was a newborn in his parent's arms. As soon as they had made the long trek to Miyagi's home she had been waiting to greet them in the foyer, in stark contrast to Shinobu's home in the city, where the servants tended to stay out of the way as much as possible. It lent the grand old house a comfortable air, one that Shinobu somehow felt suited his companion, and also himself as well. Though, truthfully, he would have gladly made a home with Miyagi anywhere; all that mattered was that they were together.

"Ah, no, that's all fine, Yumi-san, but, if you could, can you tell the kitchen that we will be eating dinner a few hours later than the usual, and that they can wait to prepare the food until then."

Miyagi smiled kindly as he gave the instructions, an arm wrapped firmly around his little terrorist, who was still a bit in shock from the recent turn of events. "Also, I believe there should be some luggage left in the car; if you can bring that to the guest bedroom nearest my own chambers, I would very much appreciate that. That's everything I require, though."

"Of course sir, that all will be done." The older woman bowed her head respectfully, then turning to go set the rest of the staff to work.

"Miyagi, I want to sleep where you sleep," the boy protested once she was out of earshot, turning a daggered gaze on him. "Why are you getting another bedroom ready? They should just bring my things to your room."

"You may sleep where I sleep, Shinobu, but I figured that since you seemed so insistent upon it, we'd spend the time before dinner in my room. But if you want them coming in and out of the room while we're alone, then so be it."

Shinobu's eyes gleamed in comprehension, and he quickly revised his sentiments. "No, I don't want that."

"Then don't complain about the guest room. At worst we can just store your stuff there for now. Doesn't mean you have to use the bed if you don't want to." He chuckled at the expression on the younger man's face, knowing full well that his teasing was causing Shinobu to fluff up like that. Miyagi had to admit he enjoyed it. What was life if he couldn't play with his Shinobu?

"Now, come along quietly," he continued with mirth, beginning to lead the other down the hallway and up the stairs.

During the trek, the blond's stomach felt like it was ready to drop out beneath him at any moment. He had been here before, of course, but coming here with the house as his new home... that was another reality entirely. He was excited yet a little relieved. It finally seemed that Miyagi was treating him seriously; the man wouldn't allow him to move in otherwise, and that foretold of their bond moving in a different direction. Shinobu couldn't be certain of the pace, or what the journey would be like, but at least he was together with Miyagi for whatever did happen.

 

* * *

"Well, does it meet with your expectations?"

Hands came to rest on the bridge of both his shoulders, long fingers gently massaging from that vantage.

Any clever or unaffected response whisked straight out of Shinobu's brain at that second, and he could only stare holes into the landscape of the room, the majority of his gaze fixed on the spacious bed that lay low to the ground, freshly done up, inviting. That, and the solid presence of Miyagi standing behind him... he couldn't think anything any more, not with all the outside interference.

Shinobu yearned so badly to keep composure, to be _mature_ about setting the right atmosphere, but when this moment came, he floundered a little with what to do or to say. And, to further foment his hysteria, Miyagi was acting completely at ease for once, almost as if... wait, could he really be that unaffected? Was this nothing to him? Was that down to being an adult?

"Shinobu?"

Having his name called jolted the youth back to reality. He stood primly straight, shoulders tense and face flushed crimson, uttering in a manful sputter, "I-I guess I can sleep here. It's not horrible."

"You don't have to be that nervous, Shinobu-chin, I'm not going to devour you."

"I know that," was the shaky reply, tone carefully guarded to try and keep out the anxiety, but failing. Miyagi knew that if he didn't do something, the other was liable to work himself up into an unneeded fit.

Moving slightly, one hand transferred around Shinobu's waist, securing a better embrace, and the other raised up to grip at the boy's jaw, turning his head to one side to stare him directly on.

The face confirmed Miyagi's thoughts instantly.

Anyone could have told from the uneasy look in his eyes that he was nervous as hell, yet, when their gazes met, Shinobu briefly squeezed his eyes shut, seemingly holding back tears from welling up there. Knowing that he'd likely been found out, the younger whispered adamantly, "I want it," as if to somehow counteract the other evidence. And, Miyagi really believed that he did, but it was obvious that the other feelings Shinobu was experiencing were a lot stronger in this moment, and they needed to do something about them first instead of just pushing ahead.

Leaning down, he pressed a kiss to his temple, and then murmured, soothingly, "It's all right. Take your time. We're in no rush tonight."

Miyagi released the boy and took a step away, deciding to begin going about his usual nightly routine. It was all that he could think of to allow Shinobu a chance to settle down, by creating a little space between them and doing mundane things until the other had calmed.

He first trundled off into the adjoining bathroom, leaving the blond behind to collect his thoughts while he brushed his teeth and splashed a bit of water over his face.

Even though Miyagi was acting in that vein, his thoughts weren't as placid as he projected; in fact they never left Shinobu, standing there in the next room, trying to work out what he was comfortable with. Truth be told, Miyagi felt just a pinch of awkwardness himself. It wasn't the first time he had ever brought someone home, but it was very different bringing home Shinobu than someone else. This was a person who truly felt for him, not just the other half of a business arrangement. Someone who he knew he had some sort of feelings for in return.

Perhaps if he was fully honest, he was nervous as well.

The next stop was his closet, to gather up a set of pajamas. Ofttimes in the summer he wouldn't even bother with clothes while sleeping, but in this instance he felt it was more appropriate to wear them, so as not to unnerve the person who would be sharing a bed with him.

Shinobu watched Miyagi moving about the room from a vantage point where he felt completely at ease. It was both calming and unnerving watching the man go about as if he wasn't in the room. While he'd never admit it out loud, he knew the reason Miyagi was doing things as he normally did. Shinobu was nervous and he had every right to be. It wasn't every day a man was able to make love with the one he craved. And he wanted it, by gods.

Eventually Miyagi's puttering about the room caused Shinobu to step forward and stop the old man in his tracks.

"Shinobu?" Miyagi asked, wondering if the kid was relaxed enough to continue on.

The terrorist didn't say anything, he started reaching for the elder's top. There were buttons that were in the way of him and his prize. Said prize being a naked Miyagi.

Eventually his fingers found the uppermost button and unhooked it. Slowly, and with care he started on the second button, breathing becoming slightly hitched as he felt skin brush against his fingers ever so slightly.

Miyagi would have just pulled the shirt off if he could, but that would have ended up scaring the kid to the point where that guest room might have had an occupant.

Finally, Shinobu was at the last button and he unhooked Miyagi's shirt. Carefully, he used his hands to push the shirt off the other's shoulders and it fell, still attached by Miyagi's hands. Shinobu used a little strength and completely removed the shirt, which cascaded to the waiting floor.

Shinobu then looked at the bottom of the pajama pair and placed his hands on Miyagi's hips, fingers between the fabric and the man's hips.

"If you want…" Miyagi started before Shinobu cut him off sharply.

"Shut it, old man," Shinobu griped, hand shaking noticeably in its placement. "Let me do this."

Miyagi shut his mouth and let the young man pull his pants down, leaving him in a pair of boxers. The professor stepped out of the pants and Shinobu discarded them with the shirt. At this point Miyagi realized that Shinobu was still fully clothed, but he could see a bulge in the boy's groin. Obviously his little terrorist was ignited, not that he wasn't getting there himself with this little stripping exercise Shinobu was doing for him. The strangest aspect was that it wasn't even the suggestive nature of the act that was really affecting him, but more the care it was performed with.

Softly, Shinobu reached up and pulled Miyagi's boxers down, revealing a semi-erect cock. The first thought he had was that it was beautiful. This brought a blush to his face as he continued helping his Miyagi relieve himself of his clothes.

Then it happened. Miyagi was standing in full naked glory and Shinobu was on his knees, right in front of his heat. He didn't want the kid there at the moment though, so he knelt down and pulled Shinobu up, slowly and captured the youth's lips again.

Arms snaked around his naked back as Shinobu slackened into the embrace, kissing back fervidly. Miyagi could feel his erection pulse as it rubbed against the kid's stomach. He could also feel Shinobu swiftly growing hard under his clothes. It was getting him rather hot under the collar, and so he decided to speed up the process of what he knew they both wanted in that moment.

Adjusting his hold on the younger, he picked Shinobu up and transported him a short distance to the bed, depositing the blond unceremoniously on top of the comforter and watching that lithe body sprawl out in front of his eyes. Shinobu turned just as he climbed behind him, ending up captured with his back against the elder's chest, both resting on all fours.

Miyagi snaked a hand around, cupping the obvious bulge that was tenting out the other's clothes and began to rub his palm over the fevered ridge in a slow, circular motion. He could sense it twitching slightly under the care, and had to muse that it was certainly not something he was used to feeling in these sorts of times. It almost stopped him in his tracks until the other let out a soft sound of benediction, and that reminded him of the reality of things. This was new to him, but because of who he was doing it with, that was the saving grace. He was starting to feel deeper affection for Shinobu, and this was the most natural way he could think of expressing that rampant new love.

He edged closer, encouraging the other to relax his arms, which were noticeably trembling as Shinobu's concentration waned. Shinobu coursed downward, face resting against the surface of the bed, lower half pushing up at a steeper angle as he was continually stimulated. The cadence of the boy's labored breathing inspired a dual reaction of contentment and further enticement. That and the firm flesh pressed receptively into the curve of his own set his neurons on all-fire, and Miyagi had to make a further move, slowly losing his patience to desire.

Deftly clothing was unfastened in layers and tugged out of the way, and when his gaze alighted upon Shinobu's bare, and frankly, erotic frame, the look in his eyes must have been tremulous. All he could do in response to that was to stare for a long moment before rejoining the other on that plane of consciousness, laying them both down carefully in the bed, this time vis à vis.

Shinobu stared into his eyes intently, and Miyagi could easily pick out what was wanted, leaning in to place a searching kiss against pliant lips. His hand slid into the thick of Shinobu's hair, sweetly massaging his scalp and stroking through the downy golden locks. It cemented this experience for him to feel as much as he could at once, to try to understand at least a little of the young man who was so determined to have his heart.

Among the soft elements though, there were those gentle reminders of the new sort of relationship he found himself in, one with someone who had edges, unlike the curves of a woman.

Speaking of those hard edges, _it_ was already bowed back against Shinobu's stomach, turgid and at full protraction, an impressive scale for one of his would-be spouse's age. A creeping hue of pink clouded the normally porcelain skin of Shinobu's sex and torso, as if pronouncing him at full boil. And, just noting the passionate gleam in the boy's stormy eyes, Miyagi had a suspicion that before too long, that notion would manifest as true. For this moment though, there had to be a beginning, and that was something he needed to figure out how to do-

Ever so impatient, one of Shinobu's hands abandoned the muscled expanse of Miyagi's back and wiggled in between them, dipping lower until the elder's eyes glazed over with a sudden volt of raw pleasure, five supple fingers kneading at the pearling head of his erection and then tugging downward, punctiliously servicing the thick shaft.

Shinobu drew his fist vertically in a pumping motion, breath splaying in one tepid gust against the rough skin of the professor's cheek as he strained his head forward, pecking a hasty kiss against the stubbled jaw. Miyagi was stunned into submission, allowing the boy to explore him while everything processed fully within. Everything that was taking place, every single motion - felt as if it had always been intended to happen. It could hardly matter less that this was the first time; if anything it felt like Miyagi was swept into a dance that had been going on for so much longer than he knew of. Now that his heart was opened to Shinobu, so many emotions had osmosed inside at the lowered defenses, giving him a view that time did not matter so much. Not when he was feeling as strongly as he currently did.

The connection of their eyes restored when the older of the two finally raised a hesitant hand to one of the twinned buds high on the blond's chest, fingers flicking experimentally against one of the rosy peaks. The skin there was stretched tight, lending a harsh sensitivity to the area that precipitated a curious noise to bubble up in Shinobu's throat, his hand unconsciously scrunching around Miyagi's cock before resuming his previous iteration, lovingly attending to what had before only been the fodder of his wildest fantasies.

Lacing the pad of two fingers against it, he began rubbing Shinobu's nipple between them, the small mound stiffing near instantaneously at a closer examination, standing proudly out from the rest of the skin. With his other hand he began the foray at last, slipping between the boy's legs and lightly fanning over his more febrile area, fingers dusting teasingly over the top of his twitching length. At this ploy Shinobu's eyes narrowed in visible pleasure, the pant like cadence of his breath encouraging Miyagi to bequeath him with a more tangible touch.

Grinning minutely, he stopped with the subterfuge and gripped Shinobu's cock firmly in hand, alternately palming the swollen head and wending his way further south, giving a faint squeeze to the delectably tight sac resting beneath, rolling both intermittently.

Even this simplest of plays seemed to take a heavy and expeditious toll on Shinobu, whose own roaming hand mysteriously slowed as its owner's body began to tremble with oncoming felicity. His other arm dropped to Miyagi's lower back, fondly digging his fingers into the flesh there, anchoring himself to the man out of instinct.

"Oh god, Miyagi, I'm-uhn- _ah_!"

The older said nothing, continuing to stroke Shinobu straight into his peak, almost wanting to chuckle when he felt sticky ropes of release erupt quickly against their stomachs, imbuing the younger male with several waves of contractions as he relaxed himself. The sounds Shinobu made during were unfairly adorable, high, needy little moans as he came swiftly by the enticing motions of his partner's hand.

His belly quivered while he calmed, body pressing heavily into the bed as he lost the will to move an inch after such a powerful end. Miyagi drew back his hand, mindlessly cleaning off what little hit him there by rubbing the fluid into the sheets. From there he gripped the boy's jaw, holding him still as he bent down to plant a soft kiss on rosy lips. He couldn't help himself. The urge was overwhelming.

Beneath him, Shinobu was glistening with sweat, strands of his light hair plastered against his forehead. His cheeks were pink with exertion, and his general look was that of disarray, even if cutely so. The boy's breathing was shaky, but he looked up at Miyagi with such adoration (and a little fire) that it made the elder's heart jump to see. How was it that someone like Shinobu had chosen him out of any multitude of more suiting people to love? What had gone right in his past life to merit this? He couldn't help but wonder.

He removed Shinobu's hand from where it was gripping his length, instead bringing it up to his mouth and kissing the blond's knuckles tenderly. "Shinobu," he called low, "what do you want to do?"

Miyagi didn't want to startle the younger man by trying to push too far, so he resolved that it would be best to be clear. Shinobu seemed to like it when he was guiding them both, but there was that issue of comfort zones that needed to be gauged before proceeding. As for him, he was ready for anything, having acknowledged finally just how starved his old heart was for affection. His body, like a foreign thing to him, hummed with an excitement that he hadn't felt in a long time, felt such a terrifyingly strong force of love for this boy that it was unreal.

"Miyagi, let's do it."

"Is that what you want?" He exhaled, liberating a breath he wasn't aware that he had been holding back.

"Yes," he responded decisively. "But… I want to see… your eyes. Look at me when we… okay?" Shinobu requested, his tone audibly uncertain.

Miyagi moved, for a moment pushing his hands under the younger's shoulder blades, scooping him into a full body embrace. It was truly a beautiful thing, feeling the boy's soft skin and warmth solid against his own frame. He squeezed him tightly before replying, "What gave you the idea I wouldn't want to do that, Shinobu-chin? I did say that I love you, or do you remember? Of course I want to see your face, too."

Shinobu seemed as if he didn't know how to act at that junction. He trembled fitfully in Miyagi's arms but still found the gumption to huff and utter, "Anyone would be uncertain with the way you act, old man."

"I'm sorry."

"It's fine… just stop making me uneasy…"

"I'll stop."

Miyagi resumed his attentions, pressing his lips to the sensitive skin of Shinobu's neck and beginning to suck, teeth kneading the flesh to leave his mark. Shinobu squirmed as if he enjoyed it, but soon the protests started up, all carrying that particular brand of impatience that was Shinobu's alone. Pushing against the older's shoulders, he muttered, "Would you just put it in already? I'm ready."

The raven head laughed, muffled against the boy's skin, jabbing back with a wry, "Well excuse me for wanting to shower you with affection, Shinobu-chin. I thought you wouldn't mind that part, but, if it's too much, then I can always just leave it out from now on."

"No, I… stop twisting my words!" he griped. "You can do all of that, just, I already told you - I want you _inside_. Unless multitasking is too _difficult_ for you."

Miyagi raised his eyebrows to the sky as if to underline his mood, but he decided to desist. He could infer well enough that the youngster's nerves were getting the better of him again; thus the brusqueness now. He supposed he could always take his time later - this was only the start of this stage of their relationship - and letting Shinobu's anxiety build too high would just be cruel.

He then quickly laid one last peck to the other's cheek before separating them.

Miyagi hummed evenly to himself, sitting up on his knees in the bed and reaching to open one of the drawers of his nightstand, pulling out what was needed. Shinobu's eyes followed the movements, the flush on his face deepening when the teen spotted the box of prophylactics.

He set his head back against the pillow at that point, staring away from the activity, pulse beginning to beat a little more erratic as his thoughts multiplied.

A moment he had waited for was soon in coming, but now that it was here, Shinobu couldn't entirely reconcile his anxieties. So far, he felt like he had held his own, but if they were going to go all the way, would he embarrass himself by virtue of inexperience? After all, just laying there, unmoving, he knew wouldn't be enticing, but he wasn't yet fluent in the motions of love, of what he needed to do to increase both of their pleasures.

At the very least, it was going well in other respects. An earlier conversation dawned on the youth, and he relaxed. With what Miyagi was up to right now, and his actions up until this point, Shinobu could be content that the man was being careful with him, and that behavior meant he really did care.

Shinobu had never been shown this gentle aspect so much as he had tonight, and with its presence, he was only falling deeper in love with the contradiction that was Miyagi Yoh. One could not say that the man was simplistic in nature, in fact, if anything, he had two personalities. Even so, Shinobu was enamored irreversibly.

He sat up, mind made up. This was a partnership, not a one-sided effort.

"I-I'll do it. Give it to me."

Miyagi complied, and Shinobu took it with only minutely shaking hands, steeling himself to take some initiative.

His eyelids slid down in desire as he eyed the rather imposing erection laying plump with blood against the other's abdomen, his hormones projecting more courage than Shinobu actually felt. He opened the package carefully as not to tear, and pulled out the condom, mechanically moving down and placed it over the head, rolling the latex down over the crown and slowly further along. He almost wanted to delay, still nervous about what it would actually feel like to have the elder inside of him, but he also was excited for it to happen, so he trudged along dutifully.

Miyagi noticed the boy's nerves, and wanted to do something to try and dissipate them. He knew that it was something they both wanted, but could understand how Shinobu must feel, being put in an unfamiliar arena for the first time. Even though it had never been explicitly pointed out, he had no doubt in his mind that Shinobu had never had another lover, and was, in all likelihood, a virgin. The younger's determined personality wouldn't have left leeway for him to experiment around.

"Don't force it all the way on, now, Shinobu. You have to leave some at the tip, otherwise where is what comes out going to go?"

"I at least know that much, baka! I took a health class in school!"

"Oh, well that's a relief."

Miyagi laughed at the incredulous expression on the younger man's face, almost hearing the cogs turning in Shinobu's head as he tried to work out how best to respond to his tease. There was something in Shinobu's fiery nature that couldn't help but to thrill Miyagi, it being both amusing and endearing, all in the same breath. The boy was like an old man in a nineteen year old's body. Combined with all the hormones of that age, it made for a unique persona, and one that inexplicably checked all the boxes for him.

"Are you making fun of me? I thought you wanted me to do this for you, but if you're going to be like this, you can just do it yourself!"

"I'll be quiet. You just show me that knowledge of yours, Shinobu, and let's get on with it," he offered amiably, a crooked smile on the verge of breaking free.

"…There." A single word had never sounded more final to the teen, and yet it had come from his very own mouth. He glanced, guardedly, up at the other, looking for some measure of guidance.

Wrapping both arms around the other's slender frame, Miyagi held onto Shinobu tightly, and kissed the boy, at the same time easing them both back against the pillows. It was enough to boggle the mind, but, since first tasting of the other, he hadn't wanted to let go even for a second. Thus far, Miyagi had maintained composure outwardly, but truthfully he wondered who of them was really in charge of this encounter.

When they were more settled, he gripped Shinobu's hand tightly in his own, imparting, "Squeeze it if you need to, all right? Don't be afraid to tell me if it hurts too much."

The blond nodded, meeting the older's stare resolutely. He was in a strange state of bliss as it stood, feeling the weight and warmth of Miyagi as they were intertwined; he knew that this was how his life was meant to be, and he drew great comfort just from this simple connection they maintained now.

Moments later Shinobu gasped, heavenly vision laced with sudden pain, and he took advantage of the offer, locking down on the hand holding his like the only anchor he had; his other hand gripped at the bedclothes, trying to expend some of the negative vibes into the linen. It… wasn't the worst, but it was palpable.

Shinobu grit his teeth, trying not to let the discomfort show. His breathing, once he could hold it no more, was shallow and ragged.

There was good buried under a heap of stinging that he felt, but it was so hard to focus on with all that was going on; how he was supposed to be abetting the other's thrusts, and somehow still hold his legs up at the angle that was desired. Everything was overwhelming to the nth degree; he'd never experienced anything like it. Even fooling around with his body before had barely prepared him for the real act.

Thoughts raced through his consciousness in a blinding tempo, a whole range of emotions permeated his being. He cautiously opened his eyes, only to sigh in relief at acknowledging the kind eyes linked to his gaze. If only he looked back at Miyagi, that seemed to help more than anything; it gave him a sense of peace that he desperately needed then.

Acting on a sudden whim, Shinobu raised both hands, placing them on either side of the other's face and drawing it down to meet his.

Hungrily, he sought Miyagi's lips and kissed him soundly, bossily pushing his tongue inside the elder's cavern, sloppily laving at anywhere that felt right in his impassioned haste. Where they were connected there brought nothing but pleasant feelings, and the flavor of Miyagi was one that he wanted to be consumed, no, devoured by in that moment.

As their tongues lashed together, the jarring motion of Miyagi moving inside of him dulled to a point where, all at once, Shinobu broke from the embrace, crying out in surprise as it actually felt - it felt so _good_.

He threw his head violently back against the pillow, breath briefly strangling in his throat as a raucous moan fought its way to the surface.

Miyagi took the opportunity, trailing roaming lips to the flesh of the boy's throat and suckling roughly. His hips rocked slowly, purposefully, driving in, and darkened eyes watched every movement carefully, picking out what seemed to garner the best response. It already felt like nirvana, packed into the tight heat, but he would hold off just a bit longer.

If it all possible.

Shinobu's hips were now pumping back of their own accord, and with or without meaning to, the blond was cramping down on his length, squeezing it with each rhythmic thrust. Gray eyes were watering with a different sort of tear, one of pure ecstasy, and Miyagi's heart was off in flight.

Something about this irascible youth was becoming more and more precious to him, and, yet, he couldn't help but take to the feelings like a moth to a flame.

He couldn't deny it - it felt good to be cared for, which was something he'd never truly experienced. Shinobu may have been a virgin of the body, but Miyagi was a virgin to love. And there was just something so tantalizing about the emotion; he couldn't make sense of it, even as it engulfed him. Feeling the other here with him lit a fire of contentment deep within his center, and pondering the future for once, it seemed brighter.

He grunted brusquely, some of those internal working manifesting on the out. Shinobu's breathing was near frantic, his arms once again clung to Miyagi's body like a second skin, wanting so fervently to feel every inch of the man as they existed as one being, and Miyagi was coursing with little regard, thick piston ramming into the blond's narrow passage, skillfully titillating the nerves within, the friction assuaging his own. Ecstasy was swarming where they were connected, and with the crooning chorus gracing his ears, Miyagi was goaded into an even more brilliant state, loosing a sensual groan

"M-Miyagi," Shinobu called tremulously, cheeks once more visibly flushed from glancing at the other's face. Shinobu couldn't help but to find Miyagi's expressions beautiful, if subtle; watching him alone was one of the larger turn ons out of everything.

Miyagi placated the mewling youth with a quick and breathless kiss - merely acknowledging him - he could spare no more than that, not with the tide oncoming. Heaving forward, he put all his strength into the last, his own pleasure spiking as he both felt and heard the tell tale signs of Shinobu pulsing below him.

 

* * *

For the longest of pauses they remained conjoined, sticky and awash with elation, limbs twined comfortably with one another, in no hurry to disengage.

Once they regained a bit of cognizance, Miyagi situated himself comfortably back against the pillows of their shared space, but, instead of laying beside him in the bed, the younger maneuvered himself to lay more or less _on_ him, their chests meeting. One arm draped searchingly across Miyagi until the hand found purchase resting against his shoulder, and Shinobu's cheek seemed to nuzzle against the other. Miyagi didn't mind any of it, but admittedly he was surprised at the intimate pose, given the other's generally prickly nature.

Even so, he had to smile.

"By the way," Miyagi murmured quietly, composed and ready to clear things up, "before you fall asleep, hear this."

He stroked the boy's damp, honey-colored hair, running his fingers gently through and then going over, smoothing any mussing he had done. "Shinobu, I formally accept your proposal."

Shinobu's eyes snapped open at the words. He blinked once, and then once again for good measure. He called out the older man's name questioningly, asking so much in just a few syllables that it was astounding. Miyagi decided to make it simple on him and not beat around the bush any more than he already was in saying it. He took a deep breath, and, gathering the most clear statement he could think of, added, "I mean that I will marry you."

Shinobu inhaled deeply, clinging tighter to the elder's chest. "Miyagi, thank you. But, you never had a choice you know. This was all going to happen, one way or another, because I love you."

"Fate, right?"

"Fate," Shinobu agreed, adamantly.

**.**

**.**

**END CHAPTER.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [*] Miyagi-dono - It's my understanding that "dono" is a more antiquated honorific, but equates to something such as "my lord / milord."


	15. What Happiness Surprises Can Bring

  
**(** January 11, 2013 **)  
**  


* * *

 

"Can you please slow down Tori? I'm tired!"

Chiaki hefted a huge yawn as if to underline the point, absentmindedly rubbing at one eye as he followed behind his husband down the street.

Lately, Chiaki had been feeling pretty sleepy, and it was all he could to do hope he wasn't coming down with some sort of virus. They were in the thick of cold season as it was, and thus far he had managed to escape getting infected. He wanted to keep it that way if luck would just stay on his side. At least until he finished his project this month, then sickness could do whatever it wanted. Other than fatigue though, he didn't sense the usual signs of a bug coming on.

Hatori had taken him to get a flu shot as he always did every year, and they had been keeping the house well-heated, so perhaps that was enough preparation to stave it all off. Grogginess Chiaki could attribute to his work rhythms, though that tiredness didn't normally set in until later next week. Maybe he was getting old, and less able to pull the hours he did before? That seemed strange too, given he wasn't even thirty yet.

"We're running late, so that is why I am hurrying. Please try to keep up."

"..." Chiaki sighed, picking up the pace a little despite everything.

It was kind of a normal reaction by now. His mind always responded to that key word, 'late' given that he was used to hearing it under career circumstances. Often, given his propensity to not exactly meet his deadlines in an efficient manner. He honestly felt bad every time, but it just seemed to well, happen. One week he would be turning out pages at a good rate, the next he might not even draw anything for a day or two, which repeatedly led him into trouble near the end of the cycle.

For the past few month, the pair had been working harder than was even normal. The company's managing director had decided that for Marukawa's fiftieth anniversary, that he was going to put out special editions of the various periodicals. All the major artists had been contracted to submit at least fifty pages for that issue, and these were meant to be one-shots, unrelated to the plot of their normal installments. It was a colossal headache, but something they were obligated to participate in, so this was really one of the first days after making it out of that cloud of work that they could spend together.

After all, Hatori had other artists to herd around, so it wasn't like he could always be with Chiaki, even if he had asked the man to.

Chiaki hadn't liked this, not so much because of the work, but because it got to be lonely in those later hours of the evening when his spouse was away from home. They didn't regularly sleep in the same bed during this time, so there wasn't even that much contact. That was partially what was bugging him today; it was one of the first freed up days, and he had wanted to spend it doing something fun, just the two of them, but Hatori had suddenly decided this morning after they woke up that they had to go out into the city for some appointment.

Chiaki didn't know what they were going to, so he was both tired and a little irritated on top of that. He tried to take it in stride because, after all, they _were_ spending time together this way, even if it was doing mundane things.

They crossed the square, heading for the sprawling office building that housed a variety of businesses, everything from a hair salon to a law practice. These monolithic complexes scattered around the main square were among the tallest structures within the capitol walls, rising many stories into the sky. The places built on top of each other as needed for space, as each office was individually large, the better to accommodate their high-class customers.

Because of the walls around the city, there was limited area open for development. Over hundreds of years all the land had been taken up, mostly by the palace, the governmental buildings, the school, the university, and houses for the nobility who resided therein. There were only a few commercial zones and this was the primary one.

Hurrying into the lobby, the pair was greeted with a row of stately elevators or the other option, a stairwell. The steps were carpeted, and didn't seem particularly steep. Chiaki couldn't be sure what floors the elevators were on, and if any were readily available for them to ride in, so he decided to shelve his fatigue and try and make sure that they were on time. Hatori was slightly on edge, and he didn't like it when the man was stressed like that because it started to make him feel weirdly out of balance, too.

Even so, the male in question was making his way over to the lifts, and this had Chiaki caught off guard for a moment.

"Aren't we going to take the stairs? It's probably faster, right?"

"No, the elevator. It's... safer that way."

They waited for the lift to reach the bottom floor in quiet company. Chiaki looked sideways to check that Hatori was all right, since he had said they were running late, and that might cause the man to be in a stressed state. Thankfully that did not seem to be the case, and he had a normal expression on his face, watching the lights blinking from floor to floor as the car descended to the mezzanine where they were.

Not too much later, Chiaki stepped into the elevator, happily eying the many buttons for the different floors. "Which one?" he asked expectantly, finger hovering over the pad.

"Fourth floor."

He pressed it and then stepped back against the wall of the car, reaching to link his hand with Hatori's. The man's hand was warm and comforting, nice to hold onto at times, and when they were out and about like this, it was doubly nice. Being outside could be intimidating, given that Chiaki was kind of an indoor person when he was in the city. He was none too fond of the large crowds of people, but when he was with Hatori it was less scary. The other was so unfazed by such things that it made Chiaki feel more comfortable as a result.

They reached their destination only a few moments later, and when they stepped together onto that landing, Chiaki recognized the entrance to his physician's office, where he had come to get his flu shot only a few months prior.

'Is this where we're going?' he wondered curiously to himself. Maybe there was another vaccination he needed to get this year to stay immune to the bugs that spread around?

The two went in, and Hatori towed him along to the receptionist's desk to check in.

"Ah, Hatori-sama, right? It seems you're right on time. I'll go and let the doctor know you're here, so can you please fill these forms out for us? Here's that, with a pen."

The woman handed over a clipboard with a few crisp sheets of paper attached to the front, and Chiaki peered out from behind Hatori's shoulder at them, noting all the boxes next to words, asking things like, "Do you have a family history of cardiovascular disease?" and underneath there was a space to write which family members if you checked the 'yes' box for that question.

"Is everything okay?" Chiaki asked, starting to feel a little concerned by the written mentions of various medical conditions.

Was it possible that Hatori was sick and hadn't told him until now? His heart started speeding up anxiously at the flyby notion, worry beginning to form. He definitely didn't want that to be the truth; he couldn't imagine the man being ill, or being taken away from him.

"Tori, why are we here today? Please tell me."

Hatori looked up from the clipboard, noting the panicked expression on the artist's face. He supposed it was all right to say the reason now that they were already here; hopefully Chiaki wouldn't be too shocked at why.

"We are here today to see the doctor about checking you out. I believe that you might be pregnant, Yoshino. He is going to be able to tell us at this appointment if that's true or not."

"Oh."

Chiaki went pensive at that, but he was also still a little confused. How could such a thing have happened, if that ended up being true? He didn't feel at all pregnant.

Then again, what did being pregnant feel like, anyway? He sure didn't have any experience with it himself to know. Weren't you supposed to get a really big belly for the baby to grow into, and throw up a lot? That was what he had seen on television whenever a character ended up in the family way. He wracked his brain, trying to think of some reason why Tori had this crazy idea that he was knocked up. The facts as they stood just didn't add up to Chiaki in the least.

He heard a soft laugh to his side, and turned his gaze that way to look at his husband, who was the culprit behind the noise.

"It's all right," the man soothed, filling out more lines on the admission papers. "If you are, I'm sure the doctor will be able to answer any questions you might have."

He checked over what he had written and then handed the clipboard over to Chiaki, stating, "Please read these over, there's a sheet under the first one with the same questions as I just answered, for your side of the family, and then once that's done there is a place to sign at the bottom."

"What if I'm not sure about some of them?"

"There's a box for if you don't know that you can check off."

"Okay," Chiaki replied, "but I'm gonna sit down and do it."

Hatori's face creased a little, and his hand slowly moved forward, stroking the side of Chiaki's face. He blushed, but actually the gesture made him feel content inside. And, even though he didn't really think it was possible, if he was going to have a baby, he thought that might not be so bad. Tori, even if he was sort of a taskmaster when it came to work, was really the nicest guy Chiaki knew, and probably would be a wonderful dad, too.

He had always taken good care of him, after all.

"I'm sorry for rushing you here when you were tired."

"It's f-fine..."

Chiaki scurried off to the line of chairs around the edge of the waiting room, clipboard well in hand.

As he sat there filling it out, the other drifted around the space, glancing at some of the medical posters plastered to the walls denoting various common pathologies or organ systems. Chiaki was surprised to realize how much he actually remembered about his family's medical history, and very little of it was worrisome. For that he was glad, because it would have been horrible to have to worry about being responsible for passing on a condition to his child that he had no control over.

He actually might have peeked at Tori's half of the forms, but what he saw there didn't seem bad either. That wasn't a surprise though. Even though Chiaki usually had at least one bout of cold or fever per year, it was fairly rare that Hatori would succumb to a passing illness; he only ever saw the man fatigued, not sick. Of course, it was a relief nonetheless. Truly, the thought of not being able to have Tori in his life was one that threatened to send a cold chill down Chiaki's spine even casually entertaining the notion. He wasn't sure if that was something he could recover from, and he didn't want to find out.

After turning in both sets of intake forms, the couple were pressed to wait about fifteen minutes more, during which time they sat in companionable silence in the reception area, each mind wondering what, if anything, they might discover at today's appointment.

 

* * *

The physicians on the obstetric side of the medical office were a brother and sister duo, fraternal twins, the brother the obstetrician, and the sister the sonologist. Obviously Chiaki had never seen either before, but from the beginning he decided he felt comfortable with them. Both of the Fujimoto siblings were kind and not forceful, and they didn't talk in a way that was too dense for him to understand. It wasn't that Chiaki was ignorant, but like most normal people, he didn't regularly run across the medical terms they could have overloaded him with, so he appreciated the plain talk greatly.

The first of them they got to see was the brother, who, after looking over the papers they'd signed off on, wasted no time in getting down to business.

"An easy way to tell if you're pregnant will be through a quick blood test. Is that all right with you?"

Chiaki nodded, but then inquired, "How quick is quick, exactly?"

"If I put you at the head of the queue, I can have results for you in an hour and a half, sirs."

"Okay," the artist agreed, "you can do it then if you want to."

"I'll get that taken care of. Also, it would be good if you could start drinking water. If you come back positive, we will want to get you in for a sonogram today while you're here. I'll be right back in a moment to get the blood."

 

* * *

While the tests were being conducted at the lab, Chiaki was able to talk Hatori into stepping outside the office to grab a quick lunch. He had been getting ravenous, and, apart from that practical need, it was fun to be able to go out to one of their favorite restaurants. Like something they would have done on any normal day off, so it made the tone of the day a little brighter.

During the meal, they talked about the possibility of being able to take a short trip in the spring, when they had coinciding breaks, and about what to do for the character opening in the next planned arc of Chiaki's series. Originally Chiaki had wanted to base a character on Hatori, but, when it came to the romantic section of the story, that ended up being too awkward, so he needed to come up with someone else instead, someone whom he wouldn't feel uncomfortable drawing in that way.

After wasting a little more time looking through some of the nearby shops, they had wended their way back to the doctor's just in time for the next phase of the appointment.

"If I may, can I speak with you, Yoshino-sama? I have your results back now."

Just the words set Chiaki's stomach to flutter with nerves. Because, what if he really was _that_? It wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing, but still, he would find that rather crazy all the same if it were true. As he walked back with Fujimoto to a private examination room, he debated the pros and cons of it with himself. Didn't people say that you were never really _ready_ for kids, and that you learned as you went along? By that logic, he should be okay then...

"Your blood workup was positive for hCG, which is a hormone that normally only presents itself in a very specific situation. Thus, I'm happy to say that you are indeed pregnant. Congratulations!"

"Wait...? What...?"

Despite the fact that was the reason for their visit here, Chiaki found himself nonplussed by the verification. Immediately his eyes peered down, eying his shirt, which lay reasonably flat against his stomach; was that really true? Maybe he had put on a few pounds, but definitely nothing to the point where he would have assumed on his own that there could be a baby inside him.

"Are you sure?"

"Unless you're taking a dietary supplement that contains hCG, yes. In any case though, I must say that your levels topped out high, higher than we would expect to see were you taking that sort of a supplement. In fact, if you wouldn't mind, I'd like to do a few further examinations. Given the data and what the range of normal is, your results are not that of a new pregnancy but that of one that has long been in progress."

"So you mean I've been pregnant... a while, then?"

"Exactly, Yoshino-sama, that's what it would appear like," the doctor confirmed, setting aside the clipboard on a nearby counter. Noticing Chiaki's still befuddled expression, he further inquired, "Would it have been possible for you to have gotten pregnant not say a month ago, but longer ago than that?"

"I don't know, I mean how would I have known that?"

"Well, were you sexually active without using contraception?"

For a moment the man thought about the question and blushed profusely. He and his husband had been intimate on multiple occasions since their wedding night. That night they'd been intimate on multiple occasions, even, and not one time could he recall ever using some form of birth control.

He looked at the doctor with telltale wide eyes. "Um... yes?"

Thankfully not making light of the other's expression, Fujimoto continued on, "Well, when the body is sexually aroused, it begins to-"

"Just because I'm in shock doesn't mean I'm stupid!" Chiaki interrupted out of nowhere. His voice was full of spirit and an indignant blush stained his face at the concept that he could be that dull not to know something so simple.

"I know that... how babies are made, in the first place. I just don't know much about what _having_ one is like, because obviously I never have!"

"My apologies, Yoshino-sama, I didn't mean to imply that," the physician kowtowed quickly, a mournful look on his face. "I was going to explain about the organ itself which your child will develop in."

That plaintive reply left Chiaki feeling like a little bit of a hothead. Maybe it wasn't the greatest idea to jump in without being sure of what the other was saying.

Embarrassed, he quietly murmured, "If it's okay, I think my... would probably like to hear this sort of information too."

"Husband?" Fujimoto-sensei provided, "Of course, sir, I'll go and let him back in. Then I'll explain the basics of it for you both."

 

* * *

Once Hatori was again seated by his side, Chiaki was ready to listen to what the doctor had to say. In truth, he was really interested in learning about what was happening inside his body, even at this very moment. There was a sort of mystical aspect to pregnancy in his mind, and the more he could find out, the better he'd ultimately feel about it.

"All right, so I'll start at the beginning once again. It all begins of course, when intercourse takes place. Arousal triggers the release of an androvum, which you may call an egg. That's one of the reasons it can be easier for a male to become pregnant; unlike a female, their 'ovulation' isn't cyclic, it's frequent. Of course, if the sperm can't travel to fertilize the egg, then you can't get pregnant, but, in essence, it is easier.

"Sperm will meet with an androvum body, which is made penetrable by the release of a enzyme by the sperm. Once the sperm and androvum have met, that's when fertilization occurs. From there, it may take as many as five days for the new cell mass to imbed into the wall of the andropelvic organ and begin to develop. That's the beginning of a pregnancy.

"In men, pregnancy lasts the same amount of time as in women. But, because of the narrower pelvis, babies tend to grow to be smaller than a full-term female pregnancy."

"Is that okay for them?" Chiaki wondered, "Are they always smaller then, when they grow up?" It didn't seem so to him; his own grandfather had had two fathers, and the man hadn't seemed short by any means. Though, that could have been that way due to his perspective. His grandfather had only been alive during his childhood, after all, when Chiaki himself was little, and anything and everyone seemed big.

"Yes, the children born that way will eventually catch up with their counterparts, quickly enough too, within the first six months post-partum. Their height and build are not affected by this either; whatever genetics had naturally determined for them will take place. So if you have a pair of tall parents, their child will grow to be tall too, or vice versa."

"Now," the doctor continued; tone serious, "I want you to have an ultrasound so we can ascertain how far along in this pregnancy you are, Yoshino-sama. This will be the easiest way to gauge all necessary information and make sure the baby is healthy."

At the thought of the baby not being healthy, Chiaki felt his heart beat quicken. He glanced at Tori to see an unreadable expression on the other's face. In this case he was actually glad he didn't see the same fear on his husband's face as he felt in his heart. ****  
  
"Do you think...?"

Chiaki didn't get to finish his question before the doctor interrupted.

"I know what you are going to say and what both of you are most likely thinking. I have no reason to think anything is wrong with your baby, but I'd still like to have every possibility checked before you leave here today. It's important on multiple accounts and I don't want to worry you any more than you already are."

It was true. Both men were a little worried that they'd gone so long without a check-up. Months had gone by and infinite things had happened during those months. That meant that the baby could have been developing when stress had hit, or food wasn't consumed when it should have been.

"Doctor, we'll wait here for the ultrasound technician. The sooner we have answers, the sooner we can get on with the happy occasion."

Yoshino looked at his husband with a look of love and contentment in his eyes. Leave it to Tori to not only be the voice of reason, but also make him feel as if everything was going to be alright.

"Good, then I'll leave you and return with the technician as soon as possible."

The doctor walked out and left the couple to their own devices. Chiaki reached down and touched his stomach.

"What do you think it is, Tori, a boy or a girl?" Chiaki wanted to know, his upturned face painted with a silly grin.

Hatori couldn't help but catch a little of the enthusiasm, but his smile remained small; that's just the way it was. To be honest, even though he was the one that had figured out something was off, and he had brought Chiaki here to get checked out, the fact that his suspicion was really true was astounding. Not unbelievable, given that they had certainly given themselves plenty of opportunities to create a new life, but that it was happening was like a dream come true. With how far along Chiaki was, it would only be a few short months until they were parents; that only made it more concrete for him.

"I am not certain. Do you have a guess?"

"Not a guess, but it'd be really nice if it were a boy, that's what I think! Though a girl would be fine, too. I just really want to meet them, already!"

"Sorry to say, but you'll have to be patient a little while longer, Yoshino. If the baby came now, that wouldn't be a good thing for him or her, because they wouldn't be done developing yet."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Chiaki replied wistfully, peering down at his stomach as if to try and examine it himself.

He had always been pretty slender to begin with, so whatever changes pregnancy had already begun on him, he wasn't seeing a drastic change from the norm. His midsection, if anything, was more filled out looking, and perhaps a little softer and bigger than his usual bony contour. No huge baby bump yet. That fact kind of saddened him because he was curious as to how that would feel like. He contented himself with the thought though that, before the baby came, he'd have that experience.

An arm wrapped supply around his shoulders, and he turned his gaze on Hatori, questioning as the man leaned down.

"May I?"

Hatori's free hand positioned itself on his abdomen, stroking along the skin fondly, and Chiaki flushed slowly up to the tips of his ears. Embarrassed, he muttered, "There's not much there, Tori, don't get carried away."

"That is where you are wrong, _Chiaki_ , here is where everything is." The line fed smoothly into those pinkened ears, and Chiaki had to shiver at the intensity. Every now and then, Hatori would say such things to where he wondered where the guy came up with them, they were so sappy. Even so, though, Chiaki... kind of liked that quality of them.

 

* * *

Soon after, the brief time to themselves was broken up with the arrival of Fujimoto's sister to begin the ultrasound exam. Slightly more effusive than her sibling, the other doctor instructed Chiaki to lay down on the examination table with his shirt pulled up and out of the way. Hatori stayed sitting where he was, and on the left side of the bed was where she wheeled in the machine itself.

As she began to set up the supplies, Chiaki grew more and more excited about the whole thing. Would the baby actually look like one? From what he had seen some places, babies started off looking more like tiny sea monkeys than anything remotely human. Though, the other physician had sad that he was farther along, so perhaps it would look like he expected it to. In either case, he was about to find out.

One of the first things Fujimoto did was to squirt out some gel onto his lower stomach. To his surprise, "Wow, it's warm!"

The sonologist laughed cheerily, pointing to the dispenser where she had plucked the bottle from. "Did you think it was going to be cold? That wouldn't be very nice, so we have this machine here heat up the gel before we use it, so that it's not a shock to the system when it hits your skin."

"Good, I'm glad for that," Chiaki chuckled with the doctor, eying the hefty ultrasound machine with interest. He couldn't wait to see whatever they could from it. Truthfully, his mind was already blown that he was pregnant at all, and didn't know it for so many months. It kind of got him a little anxious, wondering if the baby was healthy despite everything, as well as anxious to see what had been quietly transpiring inside of him this whole time.

"All right, the gist of what we will be doing is I will have you lay on your back here on the table. I will then tuck in some towels to the waist of your pants, which you may want to pull down a little bit, because where I need to have my transducer is low on the body, below the belly button specifically. Next, I will gel you up and we will take some pictures.

"Also, please be sure to tell me if I am pressing too hard, all right? A certain amount of pressure can help optimize the image, but your comfort is my first priority. I know it won't be the nicest thing in the world, with a full bladder and all, but the reason we have you drink before this exam is we actually scan through your bladder to see into the andropelvic organ. The bladder gives us a nice window where the organ behind it will have higher resolution for us to look at. Do you have any other questions before we get started?"

Chiaki shook his head at the last inquiry, determined on watching her every exposition once the scan began. He didn't know too much about the process of these things, but it fascinated him all the same.

 

* * *

"And right here is your baby. There's the head there, and way over here, we can sort of glimpse the feet."

Fujimoto indicated each with the tip of her finger hovering over the screen; Chiaki's eyes recorded the path she drew with wonder. It was so amazing to think that they could see all of this just by running a magic wand over his stomach; that what he was seeing really was he and Tori's child resting inside of him, living and growing. He couldn't help but to grin, seeing him or her on the video, and the urge to want to meet them for real was overpowering. It would still be a ways off yet, but he was already terribly excited.

He reached out for and took Hatori's hand, squeezing it to alleviate some of his extraneous emotion.

For a pause, Chiaki moved his gaze from screen to the man beside him, and was subsequently dazzled by the presence of a smile broaching his husband's normally passive features. It was a real smile, not the kind he put on for work or out of duty in other places, but the smile Chiaki got to see now and then when they were together; he guessed he would say it was more beautiful that way, because of its rarity. It wasn't that Hatori was an unhappy person, he simply was not effusive in the same ways as others were.

Chiaki had to admit it thrilled him to see it. He felt like he understood exactly what the other was feeling in that moment.

"And did you two decide whether you wanted to find out their gender or not?"

Chiaki turned back to the doctor, inquiring, "So you can see what it is, right now?"

"Yes, Yoshino-sama, I can. Judging by the level of development, I'd wager a guess that you're anywhere from 18 to 20 weeks pregnant, and by now the genitalia is sufficiently developed - enough to tell what the sex of the little one is."

"20 weeks? I thought the estimate was more around 12-15."

"Ah, Hatori-sama, that was merely the initial assessment. Looking around at the ultrasound findings, I'd have to extend that to closer to five months, ergo, roughly 20 weeks. If he were only just finishing the first trimester, we certainly wouldn't be able to see the things you can see now. It could be that Yoshino-sama is just not showing as much as is normal for the time period; everyone's body is different, after all."

"Wait, if it was that much..." Chiaki paused for a moment, redoing the math in his head, "but," he glanced at Hatori, "we've only been married about that long!"

"Well," Dr. Fujimoto interjected, "congratulations! Looks like you have a wedding night or honeymoon baby, if that's true!"

"Thank you. Please continue, then." Hatori, for his part, was a bit astounded. Could it really be that the night they had finally consummated their love their child was created, or one of the days immediately following? The idea of it was romantic, perhaps even saccharine sweet, but it sat well with him in the end. If there was anything that he did regret, it was not having known earlier that something was off with Chiaki.

Pregnancy was obviously a serious condition, and had its unique considerations to attend to. There were the larger points of eating for two and being careful not to overexert one's self in daily life, but many more besides. Not that he didn't wish to treat his spouse specially on any day, but when the man was also carrying their child within him, it was doubly important to Hatori.

He could only hope that his ignorance hadn't in some way impacted either's health already. Primarily food came to mind; Chiaki had a voracious appetite after his work was done for the month, but during the actual cycle, his intake was sporadic, and probably not as healthy a diet as it could be. Hatori figured that might be behind his smaller frame in comparison to the point he was at in his pregnancy.

As for where he was at on a personal level, he had wanted to start a family with Chiaki eventually, and even though it had happened sooner than expected, he was fine with that. The timing though, did present some practical issues.

If the doctor was correct in her new estimate, then that left approximately four months before the infant would come into the world. There was so much to do to prepare that it it was beginning to weigh on Hatori's mind even at this time. There was buying of items, making a nursery, notifying work about the situation, mentally readying themselves for the new role of parents, birthing and other classes, and even selecting a name.

"Tori, are you watching? Fujimoto-sensei thinks she has a good view," Chiaki gently prompted, leading him out of his rumination. "She can tell us what the baby is now."

Hatori turned his gaze on the other man, eyes roaming across Chiaki's innocent face and errantly wished that their offspring might somehow inherit even a fraction of the features that he so loved. He nodded minutely, tightening his return hold on Chiaki's hand and relocating his gaze to the ultrasound screen, studying the black, white, and gray shapes that seemed only vaguely distinguishable to his eyes. Picking out the baby's outline was simple enough, though he couldn't have really said what else they were viewing when it moved on from the large structures to small.

"Ready? This is an exciting moment!" Fujimoto exclaimed, almost as involved as if the infant on the screen was her own doing. She used her free hand to go back to highlighting the screen's components, pointing at a region, that, again, was none too familiar to either of the men waiting anxiously on the result of the examination. Zooming in to where she had been indicating, she paused the live feed for a moment.

"Congratulations you two, it's a boy! This is his... well, I'm sure I don't have to tell you, but, 'that which answers the question.'"

Chiaki strained his neck to peer closer at the screen from his angle, lips insatiably cambering to a wider grin than earlier.

"A boy," he murmured reverently aloud, quite forgetting that his abdomen was covered in goop when he reached down to feel the rise of his stomach, where beneath their son he now knew dwelt. The gel didn't even bother him, his thoughts were so distracted. He was so happy that he wasn't even sure what to say other than that. Chiaki could already picture their boy; he would look just like Hatori and Chiaki had a vision of himself chasing the little one around the yard at home because he would have the energy of his own child self.

It was a beautiful dream, and that combined with the overload of information was probably why tears sprung to his eyes, unbidden, splashing down his cheeks in a measured flow. He rubbed his already sticky hand over the top of his bump, hoping that the baby knew that he was much loved, even if they were just now figuring out that he was incubating in there.

"Yoshino?" Hatori queried, uncertain what the other's reaction foretold. It didn't seem to be tears in a negative way, but he felt that he should at least confirm.

Chiaki turned his gaze on him, a look that made his heart unexpectedly soar, even at a faster tempo when the man uttered, "It's okay, Tori, I'll take good care of him, from now on."

 

* * *

Truth be told, there was only one thing on Hatori's mind when the duo made their way back home, and that was to climb right into bed and celebrate the child they would soon be bringing into the world. He had waited patiently as the requisite measurements had been taken on the sonogram, and as the doctor had instructed the two of them on all of the important things to be doing, such as starting a vitamin regimen, as those were all essential. What wasn't essential was anything that prevented him from holding the man he loved in his arms in the sanctity of their bedroom as soon as they arrived.

He accomplished just that.

Currently, his fingers latched at the hem of his shirt, bringing it up and off to eliminate that layer between them. Chiaki was pretending not to look, ineffectively, Hatori might add, due to the large gaps between the digits he was holding against his eyesight. It only persuaded him to unhook his belt slowly, as if to tease the other with such casual gestures. Getting Chiaki flustered was not a difficult art, but the result he rather enjoyed seeing.

"Um…" Chiaki began carefully, not entirely sure how to phrase this, "do you know if it's… safe to do those things when the baby's in here?" He patted his stomach whilst asking, peeking out at a now shirtless Hatori between the fingers of the hand still being over his two eyes. "Like, it won't hurt him, or anything, right? I don't want to mess anything up on accident."

Hatori stopped and looked on at the other with a pure affection in the slant of his gaze; it could not be possible that he could love the man more than he did in that moment. It was hard to quantify the sudden surge of feelings that lodged in his abdomen, rising slowly into his heart; where they had come from, what they were felt so intensely for. Maybe it was just natural that he would feel that way, seeing the other carrying his child, the one that had been created from their bond; perhaps also it was seeing that person care so much about the new life that convicted him thus.

"I am not certain," he offered honestly, "but I have heard of couples continuing to have regular intercourse throughout pregnancy before. Some do, possibly, while others do not. I cannot know why they do what they do, and if there is a special reason for it."

Chiaki's cheeks burst forth with color at the word 'intercourse." It sounded so, abstract, or scientific, he thought, but, somehow coming from Tori's mouth, even in an earnest way, he couldn't help but feel a little… strange at hearing it, heat starting to simmer in his more tender regions. Unconsciously, his mask came off, hand slipping down to fall upon the comforter of the bed, cerulean irises staring at the other without barrier.

Still, he felt something nagging at him that he did want to make his will known about.

"Can we… I… uh?"

"Say it, Chiaki."

Being instructed thus did not help the man as it normally did to spit out what he had meant to say, in fact he stuttered a little more than he wished to when he requested, "Can we not go all the way…yet? Until we know it's okay for him if we do… _that_."

Despite the initial mood in the room, when Chiaki had started talking, Hatori had begun to suspect the other had something like that on his mind. He could understand if the man was nervous; Hatori was as well. Neither of them really knew what they were doing yet with the news they'd found out today, and it would take some time before everything would smooth out completely. It wasn't surprising that that translated elsewhere.

Hatori listened carefully to his lover's words and let the meaning sink in. Making love, although something he desperately wanted to do, sounded like it would worry Chiaki and thus not be enjoyable for either. If anything, Hatori was living for that which he loved; Chiaki and now their baby. He'd be more than capable of putting his desires aside to avoid any sort of apprehension in his husband's mind.

"I understand, Chiaki," he whispered, pulling the man close and kissing him, first on the forehead, then on the nose, followed by placing a tender kiss on the lips. He didn't let it go too far or he'd have had to go off and relieve himself of the tingling in his groin. "Let's just go to sleep then."

Yoshino was at a loss as Hatori made himself comfortable on their bed, opened his arms, and waited for Chiaki to enter them. The smaller man didn't know what else to do but let himself be pulled into a hug. Weren't they just about to do something akin to _that_? All of a sudden the air in the room went from sexual to nothing in the span of just a few seconds. How on Earth had that happened?

It wasn't often that he took initiative in their sex life, but Chiaki wanted it right then. He could feel it growing inside of him, just like their baby. And now, with Hatori's even breathing, it didn't look like it would happen unless Yoshino jumped his husband.

Chiaki debated with himself, restlessly, whether he should act on that impulse or not; it might just lead them both into a frenzy they couldn't stifle through simple means. On the other side, he was impossibly warring with desire, feelings already beginning to leave his personal control. Something in him wanted greatly to touch the other, to feel him.

Perhaps it was because of what they had discovered, perhaps because they hadn't been connected for so long due to busy schedules, but he couldn't dampen the flame inside that burned. He would just have to trust that Tori was at least a little more level-headed then he currently felt, and that the other's responsibility would contain them well enough not to do something Chiaki would regret, after laying down the request he had only minutes earlier.

He blinked his eyes open, revealing their world of two to his sight; no longer feigning a try at slumber.

Not that far away, Hatori was laying on his side, facing in Chiaki's direction but with lids closed to all that went on around him.

Chiaki was secretly a little glad that it was like that, at least while he was trying to work up a store of the gumption he needed to move forward.

It wasn't that he hated when Tori would begin these things, but this time, he kind of wanted the experience of starting it himself. Also, and this he was putting to the back of his mind, but he felt like though he was happy that his husband was honoring his wishes, it seemed like the other had interpreted wrong. That Tori had gotten it into his brain that what he had said meant that nothing could happen until they knew the facts. That wasn't the whole truth of it.

He had a hard time of it, with the decreased room, but managed to wedge a hand between them, slipping it up to graze Hatori's groin. Deliberately, he started rubbing, working hurriedly at it out of nerves, urging the organ that lay beneath to rise. For him, this was much bolder than he was used to being, and he wasn't sure how the other would react to it. Well, he hoped, or this courageous foray would have been wasted.

A noise of surprise emitted near his ear, the once slack grip on the back of his night shirt tightening fiercely.

"T-Tori I want to do s-something!" he blurted out all at once, trying to explain his stance.

His eyes pinched shut, and he could feel his arms locking as well, still gripping onto the other for dear life, hoping that his feelings were permeating the man's brain and that Hatori would accept them. This was all a bit embarrassing, honestly, but Chiaki was trying just to power through and do it, knowing that if he didn't speak up, it might not happen on its own.

A soft sensation broached his consciousness that felt like lips upon his forehead.

Fingers drew up at the side of his face, quietly petting the skin there as if trying to erase any negative detractors from the moment.

Slowly he opened his gaze up to peek, and subsequently was met with Hatori's face growing closer to his own; without much ado, they were connected by a firm kiss. He relaxed and unfolded eagerly, sliding both palms up from Hatori's forearms to loop his arms around the man's neck.

Before he could even register it too well, the other was easing him onto his back, head sinking into the pillows at the top of their bed. With a rising pulse pounding within his body, he felt the weight of his husband settling on top of him, knees and thighs brushing the inside of his own. It seemed like so long since he had felt that welcome presence while awake, and only then did he realize just how much he'd missed it.

Seriously, causing times like these to sometimes be far apart was the only thing Chiaki disliked about his career.

"So these are what those hormones are like then." Chiaki heard a small, rich laugh cut through the heavy air, and it was like his brain didn't want as move as fast as it normally did, so the response he came up with wasn't quite… fiery.

"It's not that, Tori. It's just… been a long time, is all," Chiaki pouted slightly. Of course he would think that, though. This behavior wasn't typical for Chiaki, no matter how you looked at it.

"I'm happy to be thought of," the man soothed, trailing a finger over his shoulder where his shirt had slipped to the side to expose some of the skin at the base of the neck.

The motion tickled, but his reaction wasn't laughing so much as shaking with anticipation. The dance of the other's flesh on his was horribly titillating for a gesture so small. Kind of embarrassing.

Hatori raised himself up, hands falling to the hem of Chiaki's pants and tugging at them on either side.

He didn't break their gaze, watching those big blue eyes while they watched him work. Carefully he pushed them down to mid-thigh, figuring it was enough for what he planned, and then made similar adjustments to his own attire, smirking when he caught a flustered expression working itself across the artist's face. He looked well enough at it though, despite being embarrassed, which only served to make Hatori stiffen fully. It set his blood to pumping when the other could find the courage to stare right back at him, as was becoming his habit when they made love. Hatori wasn't sure why it affected him so. Perhaps it was unexpected.

He _wanted_ to be looked upon, to be thus acknowledged. It felt divine.

Satisfied for the time being, Hatori paused, and then took his action, reaching over Chiaki to the nightstand. He could practically feel the heat from the other's embarrassment radiating through his own skin, anticipate the tremble and the deep breath in the younger man made at the stilted position.

In order to grab what he needed, Hatori had moved in such a way that Chiaki was almost in contact with him, mouth to torso, and something about that proximity was only testing his anxious partner's reserve. Hatori wasn't worried. The other was nothing if not stubborn, and because this had been his idea, he knew Chiaki would see it through.

Flipping the top off the bottle, he poured out a generous amount of lube onto his palm and then set it aside, lips curling up at the ends slightly as he moved forward. Gingerly he ran his fist over the area of his swollen cock, wetting down the heated flesh as a pair of eyes peered down at the erotic action. Hatori made contact with Chiaki's gaze before shifting, taking up the other's most febrile area and tending to it the same. His love's mouth twitched, repressing whatever lustrous noise had burgeoned on his tongue. For as long as he _could_ hold back, that was.

When the entire ploy was revealed, and Chiaki sensed Hatori gathering them both up in one large hand and rubbing the two lengths together, he broke. "Nghnn," he forced out through resistive lips, body sinking into the bed as it had no where else to run from the new ecstasy. Feeling their skin clash together was exhilarating beyond belief, his own turgid mast receiving blissful friction on either side from this staged position. Though there was no real reason to, he slid his legs apart that much further, the sensation low in his belly swirling more fiercely the more that he opened up.

Kneeling over the beautiful form of the one he adored, Hatori's other hand drifted, grasping Chiaki's thigh and shamelessly toyed with the sensitive flesh, intermittently drawing a mere finger over the milky expanse, other times kneading at it artfully. He was soon rewarded by the flood gate opening, the air becoming laced with needful pants, and dilated cerulean eyes seeking his out for a new greeting. More than that, though-

Chiaki tentatively reached out and placed his hand on Hatori's; the second man was mid stroke.

"Um…" Chiaki broke off and lightly touched the tip of his husband's erection, pre-cum making the tips of his fingers wet and sticky.

"Yoshino?" Hatori asked, eyes wide with both confusion and lust.

"I-I-I want to, too," Chiaki replied, blushing more than he already was as he began to explain the desire that had so suddenly enveloped his concentration. "I want to feel your… _um_ …and stroke…" He hopefully gazed aloft at Tori's flushed face, entreating, "Please?"

Hatori dropped both organs and pulled Chiaki into a bone crushing hug, kissing him senseless. His head started to spin as the embrace prolonged without a break for air, but he didn't care for that factor just then. In his arms were the two most important people in his life; his husband and their child. For the pure love both offered him, Hatori Yoshiyuki would do anything in the world.

After the kiss he pulled away and deftly guided Yoshino's hand to his need, then he once more took hold of Chiaki's. With fingers supply wrapped around the other's erection, Hatori started to stroke passionately, circling his grip every so often and drawing needy breaths from his lover's vocals. Unabashedly he stared back at Chiaki, two sets of blue greeting each other. Hatori soon realized that the emotion reflected back to him was curiosity, pleasure.

"Together," he breathed, huskily.

Truth be told, holding Tori in his hand was more of a turn-on than the motions the other was supplying him with.

Not quite as furious-paced, he glided his hand steadily up and down the magnificent length, stomach tightening just by virtue of how palpably aroused his husband was. Chiaki wasn't sure how he was so surprised at that, but realizing it did something funny to his mind and insides, filling him with a happiness that was overwhelming. Hatori, someone who normally was never an open book, felt so revealed to him in this time, the man's affection getting through to him wholly without saying a word. He could just _feel it_ with every subtlety of the act they were engaging in.

For a spell Hatori rested his lips against the other's cheek, thumb working over the slit of Chiaki's arousal, rubbing the burgeoning fluid around even more. Feeling their skin against each other was something of a miracle, something that he'd never expected to experience to this magnitude before the fateful day when Chiaki hadn't thrown him away for confessing his love, but let him in, instead.

Moving up, he started barraging Chiaki with gentle kisses: at the corner of the eye, the forehead, back down to the cheek, and then at the base of the artist's ear. If he listened intently, he could hear the soft rhythm of Chiaki's breath near his own ear, sometimes stoppered up when the hand below moved more stark, keenly pulling on Chiaki's need, other times sweetly flowing, in, out. Already he could sense the man begin to tremble, and he sped up his ministrations while simultaneously thrusting into the firm hold Chiaki had on him, selfishly trying to align them better as the heat grew.

"T-T-Tori," his love finally, victoriously moaned, voice unlocking as his essence released powerfully over the web of the other's thumb and fingers, blue eyes fluttering beautifully in response.

" _Yes_ ," Hatori found himself nearly hissing, actively abetting the other's hand on him now that he tasted his own climax in the works.

"Touch it like that," he added wantonly, perversely delighting in the indecisive shock on Chiaki's face; the man not sure whether it was okay that the words riled him up a little. Nonetheless, that hand started pumping Hatori faster; he arched his back minutely, breathing shallow as he tried to slow down and really enjoy that it was Chiaki stroking him into delight, rather than just blindly giving in to the ecstasy and having it be over in milliseconds.

Lowering his head, he crashed his mouth onto Chiaki's, not waiting before plundering the other's cavern with his tongue; heedlessly, deep. The taste of him was ravening, and before he could give anything another coherent thought, Hatori was racked with sensation, thighs quavering as his pleasure peaked, the evidence spurting in several tantalizing jets onto the precious form below.

 

* * *

Upon waking in the morning, he knew there would have to be a lot that they would have to start to do, and the thought was overwhelming. For now Hatori put that idea aside, figuring it would do no good to dwell on it at the level of fatigue he was experiencing. The next day would be the next day; it would arrive soon enough and then he would deal with what needed to be attended to then.

He adjusted Chiaki's lead weight on the mattress so that the other was instead laying on his side, and then settled in behind the man. Perhaps holding him a bit closer than was usual before he attempted to ascend to the state of sleep, but that was only a given after the joyful news they received today.

**.**

**.**

**END CHAPTER.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chiaki's due date: May 24th, 2013. (He is currently around five months pregnant).
> 
> As some of you may know from either me or my profile information, I'm training to be an ultrasound tech, or, conversely, a sonographer. So it was fun to get to write a little bit about what I do this chapter. We are specialized, but not medical doctors. A sonologist is a physician with specialized training in ultrasound. We can gather images and also measure/describe pathologies we find, but cannot give a legal diagnosis to the patient. That is the doctor's responsibility, after reviewing all the information gathered both by imaging and from the pathology lab and other sources.
> 
> U/S Geek stuff: What the sonologist in this chapter briefly described to Chiaki is true of female obstetric scanning. When the exam is done transabdominally (through the abdomen) the patient is required to fill their bladder at least an hour prior to the exam. In a nutshell, with the physics of ultrasound, being able to scan through the bladder is helpful because when that organ is filled with urine, which is a fluid, the transmission of the ultrasound beam is increased posteriorly. In the case of a female, that would aid with visualization of the uterus. Thus I applied the concept with a male, here.
> 
> In a 1st trimester patient, or a non-gravid (not pregnant) patient in for a typical pelvic exam, superior resolution will actually come from the transvaginal approach, which is when we insert a probe into the vaginal canal and scan through there. Because the transducer (probe) is closer to the uterus and structures it is imaging than if we were going through the stomach, there is more clarity in the pictures obtained through that method. The transvaginal scan is also used in cases when sufficient clarity cannot be gained through the transabdominal scan for whatever reason.
> 
> Generally, via ultrasound, a pregnancy can first be seen when the patient is 3-4 weeks along, when the intradecidual sign appears in the deciduous endometrial layer of the uterus. At around 5 weeks the gestational sac may be seen. At 6-7 weeks is when we first see the fetal pole (the baby for all purposes) itself.


	16. Falling On Deaf Ears

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ITALICS represent a flashback, daydream, or a character's inner thoughts.

  
**(** July 17th, 2012 **)**  


* * *

 

As he walked a shameful path through the hallways of the ancient Sakurazawa palace, Misaki's mind was not on his direction but more on what he had to do when he reached the destination he was heading toward. For just over a week he hadn't been able to bring himself to confront the problem that had unexpectedly developed, but today it needed to be finished. The prince may say that he was in love with Misaki, but even so, the young man couldn't let that go anywhere. What had already transpired was betrayal, clear and simple, to his fiancé, and any more would only deepen that wound.

Misaki wasn't sure yet how he would be able to break the news to Haruhiko, or if he would ever gather enough courage to. All he could do for now was tell Akihiko to stop with his attentions. While the royal had claimed that what he had done to and with Misaki was a onetime favor, the more Misaki had thought about it, the more he didn't believe that claim. The way the prince had held him wasn't the way of a one-night stand or even a lover who knew this was the only time he could be with that other person; it was passionate, and Akihiko's actions had felt... _playful_ , as if he had been working Misaki up into desiring more.

It wasn't a parting... it was a beginning.

He strode on, piecing together what he would say when he arrived. Better to be prepared, and firm, than to falter and let what courage he'd built to come here today go down the drain.

The halls were surprisingly - yet fortuitously for him - empty at this time of day, but even so, Misaki felt so out of place there that it was intimidating. The structure had stood for hundreds of years, existing before the dawn of the Akiyama dynasty, the royal line from which the prince's late mother had been born. Akihiko was an Usami, the first heir out of that new group. His father had been the one to begin it, having married the crown princess of the old dynasty and given her his family name at their union. The palace had stood many changes of hand over the years, had survived through many of the more perilous eras of the country's history. Just realizing that tended to make the young man feel rather insignificant in the scheme of things.

Misaki knew that he couldn't fail in his endeavor. If he did, only more problems were sure to follow...

_His legs were spread wide as he fell back onto the comforter, a lean, masculine body sliding in between the parted pillars and quickly jerking forward, pushing in without hesitance. A squeal emitted from the brunette's throat as he was filled with the elder's throbbing cock, the hard length rubbing him intimately as Usagi-san began to thrust, expertly slamming past his tenderest point with every fervid wave of motion. The sensations were vivid, a shock to his normally placid self, and yet he found himself surrendering to them all, closing his eyes and just letting it-_

_-A door cautiously opened, the hinges creaking quieter than the bed in which the salacious duo lay coupled, soft footsteps barely daring to broach the threshold of the shadowy room, their owner filled with a horrible urge to uncover the truth._

_An oft expressionless face bent and broke with the weight of nubile despair, lips agape and storm-hued irises blinking back the rapid onslaught of tears. The man in the frame watched the spectacle, unable to move away from it all with such newly leaden feet._

_His probing stare met Misaki's as the boy was shuffled into another position, the prince's lips tenderly smothering the nape of his neck with love-soaked kisses, a multitude of sweet words infiltrating the horror-struck youth's hearing. Their vision clashed, and without a word, he could feel the other withdrawing from him, in heart if not in steps. Betrayed, he appeared, and readily attempting to put up all the walls that might defend his fragile psyche from further harm._

_Struggling to make a sound, Misaki gathered up what little residual breath that lingered in his lungs, calling desperately out to the other, "Har-"_

Twinned emeralds popped open at the abrupt close of the fictionalization, and, despite its dramatic turns, Misaki was sure of the validity of its underlying theme. If he permitted this - this behavior, then, well, he was setting himself up to ruin one of the most beautiful things in his life to date.

Without thinking, he pinched his eyes shut for a moment and bolted forward for the corner turn, only to run smack into someone coming from around the other side. There was a gentle impact that sent Misaki stumbling backward a pace, but nothing terribly drastic. Embarrassed, he slowly opened his gaze and let the second person materialize in front of him.

His vision then revealed a man a bit taller than himself, sporting a much tailored appearance, dark gray locks, and narrow hazelnut irises framed by oval-lensed glasses. Those were currently looking down on him in mute surprise, taking in his measure. The man's reaction was not immediately obvious to him, a fact that caused Misaki to begin worrying that for his small misstep, he might find himself on the receiving end of quite the tirade. Whatever was going on in his personal life, for the time being he was still a commoner, and even if it wasn't fair, a noble as this guy clearly was well within his rights to chew him out for his clumsiness.

"I'm very sorry!" Misaki rushed to apologize, doubly nervous at the thoughts currently rattling around in his brain. The situation was clearly affecting him more than he even realized thus far.

"I wasn't looking where I was walking, so please accept my apologies, ..." his sentence stymied in his throat, on the tip of finishing it when he gathered enough self-awareness to think that he didn't know the other's name to properly make amends.

"My name is Sumi," the one he'd bumped into answered, quickly picking out the source of Misaki's problem. "And I too can get lost in thought from time to time."

"Anyhow, don't worry yourself over it." The other flashed him a shock of a broad smile, and then continued, "Rather, pardon _me_ \- your name is Takahashi-kun, right?" the man inquired, a lilt to his voice. Misaki pulled up from the prostration and nodded dutifully in response to the naming.

"Hmm," Sumi seemed to ponder a notion for a brief moment, tapping one finger against his bottom lip, "I thought that Lord Usami owned a residence in the old district, not here in the palace. But I must have been mistaken. Please, don't let me keep you if you're on your way home, Takahashi-kun."

The youth's eyes widened; he couldn't hold the reaction in.

Questions started bubbling up in his gut - how was he recognized? It was probably an honest mistake, but still the other bringing up Haruhiko-san did nothing to calm his nerves, not due to the reason Misaki had come to the palace to deal with. He would just have to remain as composed as he could, and give the other a legitimate answer. He doubted Sumi was anything more than merely curious, so there was no case to make a big deal out of this, Misaki supposed. It was normal for people who didn't know each other very well to talk about what few details they did know, to foster getting to know each other better. His engagement was no secret, the whole court knew, even if they knew nothing else about Misaki as a person.

"Ah, no, you're right, Usami-sama does have his own house," he responded concisely. "It's fine, I'm not in a rush."

Sumi chuckled mildly, patting the boy on the shoulder in a conspiratorial way.

"I hate to be rude, Takahashi-kun, but I do have to get back to work, so it was more due to my own haste that I said that." Another smile cambered on the noble's face, and this time around it made Misaki feel wary for some unexplained reason. "And I'll confess, I was a _little_ curious what business you might have here, too. These halls are often empty, after all; I don't normally run into people since they go out during the day, for work or for pleasure."

"I-I," Misaki tried to come up with the appropriate remark, but under the piercing gaze that was turned on him, he lost all cognizance. "I'm here for the royal library," he stated finally, but zero conviction was apparent in the response. "I heard there are some nice cookbooks... there."

"Oh? Ah, yes, you're a chef, aren't you? That's very diligent of you, then, to brush up on new recipes." Sumi's expression remained one of amusement. "Good luck with that then. I'll get back to work, and I suppose I'll let you get to your work, as well. Have a good day, Takahashi-kun, and... happy reading!"

**. . . . .**

After his recent brush, Misaki had been more determined to get to the prince's living quarters without being noticed. It wasn't that he was planning on doing anything wrong, in fact you could say the whole purpose of his journey today was to try to _correct_ what had been done wrong, but it still made him anxious to meet with another person in the halls, and have them wonder about him even that little bit.

It was unneeded attention on him no matter how you looked at it.

Eventually, he arrived in one piece, and he timidly knocked upon the front door, not really certain of what to expect from the place, nor from the man who resided there.

After waiting on the threshold for a small portion of time, he had been admitted to the apartments by what appeared to be the prince's valet, an elderly gentleman in a flawless black suit with lavender trappings - the color of the royal family - and a similar handkerchief neatly tucked into the coat pocket. Whatever he might have thought of Misaki's casual dress, he did not show, his expression well trained to indifference, as was expected of a servant of the highest tier. He simply stood with Misaki in the antechamber, and inquired of his name and purpose, which Misaki left at that he wanted to speak with the prince.

"His highness is currently indisposed," the valet responded, "Normally his hearing hours are-"

"Oh, but... It's really a personal matter..." Misaki added, deciding that saying that much wasn't giving anything away. "Not something I would come to court for, for one of the hearings. I need to speak with him in person."

"I'm afraid that he is still abed."

Misaki, surprised, had to glance down and verify the hour with the watch around his wrist. It seemed - no, it really was - very late for someone to still be sleeping. But he couldn't make a judgment there, nor did it really affect him one way or the other. He just needed to straighten things out with the royal over their... over what had happened the last time they had shared company. It was verging on rude to wake someone up, but, Misaki weighed his options and decided that, whatever it was, what he had come here for was too substantial to wait on.

"I'm sorry," he began tentatively, "but could you see if he would be willing to speak to me? I think that he will if he knows who it is."

"Very well sir, I shall attempt what you say."

The valet turned on his heel and walked off deeper into the home to try and wrangle the somnolent prince away from his quiet time.

**. . . . .**

"Misaki?"

Akihiko strode into the room, his eyes lit with interest at learning of the other's presence in his quarters. There was no apparent motive that he knew of, but he could only hope that this was a positive development in their blossoming relationship. He had held off seeing Misaki for a week, giving the brunette some space to realize firstly his feelings and secondly what being with Akihiko could bring to his life. The author felt it better that way than to spend any length of time verbally expounding on the matter. Some sort of balance needed to be struck in order to carry this out properly and make Misaki want to be his.

The one in question was sitting, tense-shouldered on the smaller sofa in his sitting area, hands placed on either knee, fingers tapping slightly. At his calling, Misaki looked up to whence the prince had emerged from, and responded in kind.

"Usami-sama, I-" the distanced address given threw Akihiko for a loop, his brow furrowing curiously in its wake. Puzzled, he continued to study the youth, not really hearing anything else that came from the boy's mouth; his mind was all static.

"Leave," he interrupted the unknown train of words, directing his own at the two staff members who remained in the parlor, and waving a hand as if to further shoo them away.

"Oh no, there's no need to do that. I... I don't plan on being here very long, so your servants can stay, Usami-sama," Misaki piped up quickly. That, he did record.

While necessary for them to stay in another room during the conversation he wanted kept private, Misaki didn't want the others to leave altogether. He felt that he needed some sort of buffer between he and the royal just as an extra precaution. He couldn't be confident about how well the elder would receive his plea, given the older male's actions up until this point.

Misaki had had some time to think of it when he was able to stop feeling sick, and he was a little alarmed to realize that when he looked back, it seemed like Akihiko had been trying to appeal to him even from the very advent of their acquaintance. Almost like a courtship of sorts, that was the real motivation behind the prince's behavior; not the friendship Akihiko had initially said was his intent. When Misaki had figured that out, he had felt hopelessly confused. The man knew that he was already engaged. It wasn't as if Misaki could date him, or anything, so why had Akihiko ignored that? Why?

"I said you are to leave." The prince's voice was forced, the strains hiss-like as he commanded his servants a second time around. "Find something to occupy your time with for now; I will call when I require assistance."

"Yes, your highness!" The servants bowed and made a hasty retreat from the living quarters. Misaki watched them go with trepidation in his soul. His mind was screaming at them to return, but his voice didn't seem to want to cooperate in any manner. And when the door to the room shut, he felt his heart sink, both out of fear and of a slight bit of apprehension.

He watched the elder turn to him, a kind and gentle look in his eyes. No! He couldn't let himself get caught up in those pools of lavender. Misaki had come to do something and he was damn well going to succeed!

"Usami-sama, I wanted to talk with you... I... about what happened the last time we met..."

"I don't mind being _friends_ with you, Usami-sama, or even going places AS friends, but these other sorts of things are inappropriate. I was wrong for allowing them to happen, and I'm sorry if that ended up leading you on to thinking that - that we could keep doing them. I came here today to tell you that. I'd like... I'd like for you to give up on me. Don't fall in love with me... I can't return that."

"I'm not following you, Misaki. I don't understand why when I thought our relationship was already flourishing. Why is it you're only asking me for a friendship after all we've been through?" A frown lined the debonair features of the silver-hair's countenance, that spoken confusion audible in his normally rich, controlled tones. "Do I mean nothing to you?"

"It's not that I don't care." The boy faltered, confusion of his own at how to proceed, showing. Then, with a flash of inspiration, he raised his voice to declare, "Because I love Har-"

Treasonously those noxious words began to fill his ears, so different from the ones he wished to hear. What he desperately wanted was his name to fall from those sweet lips with a declaration of love, a promise that the future would be a shared one. That his lonely existence would cease to be and that Misaki would remain by his side for all time. Akihiko couldn't fathom any other outcome than that. The feelings that he had he knew were genuine, and it was so rare for him to care to this magnitude that by that fact alone he believed they were meant to be. Even if Misaki didn't realize that yet.

Surging forward, Akihiko placed one hand on either side of the boy's face and soundly kissed him, stemming the flow of the unfavorable response.

Misaki swiftly pushed off Akihiko's advance and stared back at him, bewildered. The other was regarding him with narrowed violet eyes, an anger looming there that was new and disconcerting. It wasn't that he had expected the conversation to be easy, but with an opponent like this, Misaki's nerves were barely holding on as it was. Still, he had to _try_. He had to do what he could to put an end to this whole debacle.

"S-stop it! I already told you this sort of thing can't continue!" Misaki growled, volume of his voice rising to underline the point. Even noting the vulnerability projected in his features, he was determined to make himself heard to the stubborn royal. "It never should have happened in the first place!"

He could hear the fervency in the youth's words; the problem inherent was that Akihiko didn't _want_ to hear the other's conviction. There wouldn't be a second time where the love of his life slipped through his grasp. Sitting idly by and keeping his feelings sewn silently within was what had cost him his first ardor, so it'd be a mistake to go that route again. He'd unleash the entire store of his passion if it meant getting closer to winning the youth's affections. Misaki was someone who deserved to be loved to the fullest; the boy had one of the purest natures the prince had ever encountered. He could never believe that a cold individual like his brother was suited to be Misaki's partner in life; it simply didn't compute.

Refusing to back down, he captured the brunette's slender form within the cocoon of his arms a second time, embracing him tightly about the shoulders. "I love you, Misaki," he insisted, infusing the response with all the emotion he could muster. Misaki had to believe him, he had to get through somehow-

The prince started to place kisses on Misaki's neck, just below his ear. He smiled slightly at the youth's nervousness; he was shaking like a leaf.

Misaki closed his eyes for a moment and tried his best to think of a way out of this predicament. This wasn't how the conversation was supposed to go. He was supposed to tell Usami no, and then they could go about being friends. Then he could help his fiancé and his brother mend their broken relationship.

Haru. There was a man who loved him, unconditionally. Haruhiko had shown him what love really was and Misaki loved him more than anything. The prince said he loved him? How could the prince love him the same way Haruhiko-san loved him? He couldn't, could he?

Sensing the internal battle within the boy, Akihiko licked up his neck and onto his jaw. He then started to suck on the bottom lip of his beautiful Misaki, which caused both lips to part. Usami captured the boy in a searing kiss, using his tongue to coat the other's oral cavity with its own essence.

Eventually air was necessary and Misaki finally had a chance to catch his breath. His head was fuzzy and Haruhiko was still on his mind.

"Aren't you supposed to only be intimate with someone who loves you?"

The question was full of sincerity and actual confusion and it made Usami smile at how young and innocent the boy in his arms really was. Yes, Misaki was someone who needed gentle coercion to understand a situation and the prince was willing to help him in any way possible. He leaned back, capturing Misaki's eyes with his. For the younger man to understand, he had to be looking into the elder's eyes to see the sincerity within. Through no fault of his own was he going to lose this boy who had possessed his heart.

"Misaki, if you hadn't felt for me, you wouldn't have let me hold you back then. You aren't that sort of person," Akihiko explained gently, taking hold of both of the young man's hands and squeezing them in the clasp of his own. Misty emerald irises tilted upward to view the prince, confusion laced plain to see in the troubled gaze. "I understand that the circumstances aren't ideal, but I _do_ love you and I don't feel it is wrong to express that to you, through words, or otherwise. They are my honest feelings, after all. When I care about someone that profoundly, I cannot help but show it. I want you to be mine."

Startled, Misaki's fingers tensed at the sudden declaration, and he shied away from the luminous stare reflecting back at him.

There was something there that hadn't been there the first time, a certain cast to Akihiko's face that made Misaki's head spin.

Whatever feeling was overtaking him, he didn't fight it when the other cautiously eased him back against the sofa cushions; the elder's muscled weight laying deliciously on top of his frame as they mingled for those few quiet moments, neither speaking a word. When the haze started to clear, Usagi-san leaned toward him, supply capturing his mouth in a kiss, fingers threading into Misaki's hair and heedfully massaging at the sides of his scalp, drawing out a warmth that began to well up within.

Akihiko tentatively nudged his tongue across the boy's lip, and was summarily granted a less resistive opening than he had expected. Own heat mounting, he pushed inside, tasting of each velvety soft corner of Misaki's mouth before beginning to prod at the younger's own lingual muscle, circling around it once before pulling back.

Gliding his hand downward, he grabbed a hold of Misaki's thigh just above and behind the knee, bending it back against the slender youth's chest and twisting closer to the feverish brunette's lay. He angled himself how he wanted, and then experimentally clashed against the boy, eliciting a moan that resonated and tickled at his own nearby lips.

Blissful friction ramped up between the couple, sensuously igniting his already kindled flame, the smallest of motions seeming so rich through the thin screen of his lounge time wear. Coupled with the softly sloped bulge founding rapidly between Misaki's legs, the sensation was so keen that it near substituted for one more intimately gleaned.

Akihiko rocked into the makeshift embrace, head tilting to deepen the newly-fomented kiss. His body was simmering with amorous excitement, pulse thrumming intensely with each brush.

He slid a hand curiously beneath Misaki's shirt, seeking out one of the pebbled buds and stimulating it further, tugging on the tender peak and rubbing the apex between his first two fingers. Doing so dragged a ragged cry from the ingénue in his arms, one that he eagerly swallowed up before shifting, freeing up the hand not attacking to rifle at the clasp on the boy's trousers, tearing at it until the mechanism sprung loose.

That allowing him to trace his hand inside along the sides of Misaki's burgeoning erection, artfully stroking it through the starchy layer of his boxers. All the blood seemed to be rushing to the head, causing it to twitch obediently under Akihiko's playful forays, spitting out small jets of pre-cum that rubbed fluidly into the searching fingers.

Usagi brought his lips briefly away from Misaki's, chuckling huskily at the younger's honest reflexes. A slender tendril of saliva still connected their mouths, and doe-like emeralds stared back at the prince, a maelstrom of emotions reflecting in their verdant depths.

Misaki was more adorable than he ever could have fathomed, his body acclimating to their passion with flourish. It filled Akihiko with almost enough content to forget his earlier worry that the road they were headed down was a doomed trajectory; that he had failed in seeking out the one that he loved. When he was cradling Misaki in his arms as he was presently, that small boon made any such troubles melt away in an instant.

"Usagi-san, let's not do this," the brunette pleaded softly, breath growing more shaky as the elder continued titillating his most sensitive area. "It's too much."

Time had allowed his unease and indecision to fester more, and right at this moment his heart was beating a tremulous rhythm, consummately unsure. When he had first showed up here, he had his thoughts so strongly set in stone, but by now, they had been scattered beyond repair. Could it really be that Usagi-san was right, and that he had some sort of feelings for the man that he didn't understand?

The beautiful violets facing Misaki narrowed. With just that subtlety, he realized that they had already passed the point of no return on this occasion.

**. . . . .**

Pressing a tender kiss to the nape of the boy's neck, Akihiko dipped two fingers in, deftly searching out the liquid essence and jettisoning it, letting the pearly stream fall harmlessly down the drain of the opulent shower.

He repeated the motion, making sure that every inch of the brunette's crevice was sufficiently cleaned. There was no way he would put Misaki in danger of conceiving; with Misaki's slender body, pregnancy could easily do a number on his lover's health and, besides, he himself had no desire to father a child. He would do everything to protect them both from the possibility.

Misaki quietly let the tears beading in the corners of his eyes dissolve into the unrelenting pelt of the shower. His lips were scrunched in an effort not to say anything. He instead stayed very still as the prince went about his ablutions. The action itself was one of the most embarrassing things Misaki had ever had happen to him in his life; he felt so _dirty_ and a little hysterical as it happened.

To be honest, the youth didn't know what to think at that point. For the second time in as many weeks, he found himself in this salacious position, allowing Usagi-san to become one with him. Inside of his heart existed a dual pain and numbness; the former arose when he stood back to think about his actions, the latter was at the forefront when he was doing them. It wasn't quite curiosity but more confusion that was reigning in times like these.

He knew that something about the prince was different; he just wasn't sure what that aspect was yet.

Haruhiko was the only man he had ever been with, actually the other was the only person he'd been in a real relationship with, at all. Misaki could remember being confused at that start of that, as well, though it could probably be chalked up to his age and inexperience. Still... it didn't leave him with the best concept of what his unnamed feelings truly represented.

Did he... like Usagi-san in that way? Was it even possible to feel that way for two people at one time?

 

* * *

**. . . Trifecta . . .**

(June 5th, 2012)

* * *

_-"I'm proposing to you."-_

Those four seemingly innocuous words rang through Yokozawa's memory on a constant loop, nudging at the edges of his temper and setting him up for one massive headache. Who in the hell does something like that? And why weren't there any goddamn laws to prevent a situation like his from occurring?

_"Don't give me that look, Yokozawa. If you could have, you would have run to the chapel with that guy you like faster than anyone could blink. I'm not saying I will force you to marry me. In time, you will figure that out for yourself. For now though, I have to make sure that you don't try to wander off before you give me a fair chance. That's what this is. I like you, which is why I'm willing to wait."_

...

No, it was actually the laws that had done him in this time.

Rather than there being preventive measures on the books, there were rules kept in the kingdom that actively facilitated a problem like the one he found himself in. Merely because his family was more important in the scheme of things, Kirishima was allowed to propose to him, and he was duty-bound to acquiesce.

That was the cheap trick the man was pulling with him now, effectively earmarking him as his fiancé, so that Yokozawa couldn't be given away to anyone else. They'd remain linked in such a way until either Yokozawa could convince Kirishima to renege on said engagement, or if Yokozawa gave in and allowed the other to marry him - the shitty laws gave him only that much protection: forcing him into an engagement he couldn't break, but not forcing him to marry.

Honestly, if he could have gotten away with decking the guy right in his smirking face, he had half a mind to do so. As for himself, he felt rather annoyed. This was at least the second time in life that his family had bungled the prospect of someone he really wanted. At least, that was what he believed.

Yokozawa was the youngest of five children -his elder siblings all being sisters - born to the second son of a lord. That left him rather low on the totem pole, everything considered, but had he been born just two months earlier, so much would have gone differently.

His grandfather, his father's father, had been a decent-intentioned, if not entirely bright person. Having a total of three sons, all of whom he loved, Yokozawa's grandfather had decided that instead of the traditional route of inheritance - with the eldest male child taking all - he would walk the path of what he thought was fairness. He'd set up the idea that the first one of his sons - all adult at the time - to have a son of their own would be the one he chose as heir. The elder had made those stipulations with the longevity of the family in mind because, if he could die knowing the future was assured with grandchildren, he could fade away content.

This ill-advised scheme had led to a race between the three brothers to be the first. Yokozawa's parents had been dating when the pronouncement came down, and had had to marry rather quickly so his father could be in the running. With girl after girl born, his father's ambition had soured his life, turning a once pleasant man into a person rather calcified from failure. By the time Takafumi himself came along, his father spent more time out of the house than home.

He had to have a little bit of sympathy for his mother in everything; she loved all of her children for being her children, not for any material reason, and the contest had ruined her relationship with the man she was once in love with. A more widespread detriment to each branch of the family was that their resources became scarce with the boom in family members.

In the end, all of this maneuvering was futile; Yokozawa's uncle had won when his male cousin was born just ahead of him.

With that one fell stroke, any importance he had diminished to nothing. Yes, he was from a good family, but because he wasn't the inheritor that put a damper on what he could bring to the table as far as a marriage. Most prominently, that had been the reason why he had never been able to take a certain relationship to the next level.

He could not propose to Masamune with where he stood, and, having to beg and hint for the other to do so was something Yokozawa could never actually bring himself to do. That sort of fervent desperation was painful; a weakness he didn't want to display.

So, as one might expect, with him impotent to rectify the situation, and the other man not taking notice of his desires, their relationship remained static. An odd friendship that at one point had tested deeper physical waters. But, lately, there hadn't even been that to comfort him. Once Takano had gotten around to accepting a job at the same company he was employed to, he'd made clear that that stage was over.

Even so, some small part of Yokozawa clung to the hope that he might change his mind. That hope was appearing more and more of a reach as days passed, however. It filled him with indignation that the man would, but Takano had indeed began pursuing his flame of old, that Onodera Ritsu.

Based on what vague account he had wrangled from an out-of-sorts Masamune several years ago, the two had been in an arranged engagement set up by their parents when they were teenagers. At some point, that betrothal had ended, and judging by the pain in the other's voice when he'd said that much, it can't have ended well. For what reason, however, Masamune shrugged him off about that when he had inquired.

So to this day it was an unsolved mystery. All Yokozawa could go off of was his assumptions, and by that measure, he refused to comprehend how his friend would be so magnetically drawn to a person who had clearly hurt him in the past.

He couldn't... compete with someone like that, not as he was. Thus his priority for the moment had become merely to keep a watchful eye, to ensure that Takano wasn't being set up for yet another round of depression. What was taking up more of his time these days was his own predicament.

His own _father_ had a lack of sympathy, telling Takafumi that he'd do well to accept the offer, seeing as how he was nearly thirty and no one had shown any interest in proposing to him other than Kirishima.

In fact it was his father whose fault it was that Yokozawa was moving into the man's damn house today; his sire had told him there was no longer any room for him to stay in the family home unless it was when Yokozawa was visiting, with his future husband and "the grandchildren." That blunt statement had cornered the salesman into having no immediate option except to do what he didn't want to do and schlep his things over to his would-be suitor's.

Yokozawa had never been anywhere near the house itself, so he didn't quite know what to expect from the place. It was located in the new district, and thus was only maybe one generation in the family old.

**. . . . .**

Once within viewing distance he realized that the place was nice. Not overly ornate like some of the homes he'd seen, but it had a nice air about it. The house was two stories; painted a modest brown with brick siding. In the yard there were three sakura trees off to one side and two off to the other. Various bushes followed the walkway and ended at the door where two pristine rose bushes sat to say hello to the world.

Yokozawa almost blanched as he started to move his belongings toward the front door. He didn't get far before the door all but blew off the hinges and Kirishima-san's frame took up the space.

"I'm happy to see you Yokozawa, let me help you carry in your things!" the man chirped, reaching for one of the suitcases.

This happiness pissed Yokozawa off, right from the beginning. "I don't have enough for your help; just point me to my room."

"Oh," Kirishima said, maintaining a smile on his face. "I'm going to put your stuff in the room next to mine. This way you can be near your stuff if you decide to stay in my room."

 _'What a presumptuous thought,'_ Yokozawa snarled in his head. "That won't be happening," he deadpanned as he removed his shoes in the entrance way of the house. "Does it have a key?"

Zen's eyes went a little wide at the question. "What do you need a key for?"

"Privacy," the younger male fumed. He looked around the front room of the house and tried to memorize what he saw. In truth Takafumi wasn't at all interested in seeing what the house looked like. The only thing he wanted to do was get into his room, lock his door, and go to sleep. Maybe it was a cowardly thing to do, but he felt rather like a caged animal in a zoo by this point, possessing no voice of his own.

Closing up just a smidgen, Kirishima smiled, trying in vain to help his future husband feel more comfortable. So far though, it didn't look like the man was up to letting him do that.

"If you're worried about Hiyori coming into your room unannounced, you don't have to worry. She's a good kid who won't bother you."

"It's not the kid I'm worried about, Kirishima-san." The statement hit home a little with both men as Zen moved out of the way so Yokozawa could bring in his two modest-sized suitcases. Rather than talk in that moment he decided to lead the man to his new room so he could unpack. He couldn't think of anything else to do that wouldn't garner another unfavorable reaction.

Yokozawa followed behind dully, feeling like an inmate being taken to his prison cell.

"This will be your room," Kirishima announced, opening the door and walking inside. The room was humble with a single bed and a nightstand. A dresser sat to the left of the door. Yokozawa noticed another door into the room and for a moment wondered if it was a door directly into Kirishima's. The older man seemed to notice Yokozawa's gaze and smiled. "This door leads into our shared bathroom. Eventually when you move into my room I figured we could turn this room into a rather large walk-in closet."

_'There he goes talking about the future again like it's actually going to happen. I used to have such high esteem for this man, but now it's waning.'_

"Can you not sense the mood in here, Kirishima?" he grumbled while he started to unpack his meager belongings.

"I'm trying to make it as comfortable for you as possible, Yokozawa," Kirishima insisted. "What can I do to make you feel more at ease?" He wasn't an idiot. Anyone with half a brain could have seen that Yokozawa was in a completely foul mood the minute he walked up to the door. Zen was at a loss as to how to get his new fiancé to open up.

The raven chose that moment to stay quiet and instead focused on putting his belongings away. He hoped that the other man would leave soon so he could be in peace. There was no way out of this predicament; Yokozawa was literally fucked.

"I'm really happy you're here though, Yokozawa. I didn't sleep last night and Hiyori was thrilled. She and I ended up getting out of bed at four this morning so that we could get the house tidied up a bit before you came."

Still, the man doing the unpacking didn't say a word. He was trying to keep from exploding since he could see the girl standing in the hallway just beyond her father's presence. The last thing he wanted to do, despite his frustration, was unleash it within the hearing of an innocent other party. Quite honestly, the only thing about this whole debacle he could state as a positive was her, and no matter the situation, she was young and shouldn't hear crap like what he wanted to say to her father at this junction.

Kirishima didn't know what to do to get the man to speak to him, so he decided to talk about how he felt it was fate that brought the two of them together. "I think that we were destined to find one another and be a family. I know it was a little strange how it came about, but I'm happy it went the way it did so you and I could get to know one another."

Snapping his head up, Yokozawa finally bellowed, "So my father forcing me out of my house makes you happy, then? Because that's how you 'got this great chance' to live with me! He told me I was no longer welcome there."

Zen motioned for his daughter to go back to her room and within a few moments they heard the door shut. He looked at Yokozawa with a sad expression on his face.

"No, I don't think what he did was fair, but things like this happen for a reason, Yokozawa. I think we should take whatever chance we've been given to make this work. I'll do what I can to win you over."

Yokozawa used his arms to swipe his half empty suitcase to the floor where it landed in a heap. Then he turned and glared at the other man in the room, causing said man to take a slight step back. "You really have no idea, do you? Did you even once think about me in this decision of yours?"

Kirishima was taken aback at how abrupt Yokozawa was acting. Sure, the man was a little gruff at work, but this was downright terrifying. And that thought made him angry since he knew his little girl could still hear what was happening from the safety of her room.

"What do you mean did I think of you?" he snapped back, though not as loudly as the tsundere in front of him. "That's why you're here, because I can't _stop_ thinking about you."

Takafumi suppressed an exasperated chuckle. "That's rich coming from someone of your standing, Kirishima-san."

"Why don't you tell me what you're talking about before this gets any uglier?"

"Why don't you fucking clue in on what it's like to be a second class human being?" Yokozawa barked. "I was a second class boyfriend, tossed aside when a first class one came along. I'm a second class male in my extended and immediate families," he gripped the door, ready to slam it, "and now I am a second class fiancé who is forced into a marriage because of all the other shit that makes me second class!"

He slammed the door in Kirishima's face and fell against it with all of his might, trying to keep from crying. Fuck the world for treating him like he didn't have any rights. All he needed to do was turn off his heart and the pain would vanish.

Kirishima stood on the other side of the door, his palm against the wood. He could feel the heat on the other side and he suppressed a shudder. It broke his heart to hear Yokozawa talk about being treated like he was a second class citizen in his own life. Never had the thought crossed Zen's mind that anyone would consider a proposal as a way of torture. The man he deeply cared about…no loved beyond all reason, was in pain and he couldn't do anything about it because he'd been locked out before getting his foot in the door.

**. . . . .**

Yokozawa sat on the back porch nursing a beer. It was a beautiful evening and the fact that his fiancé was out meant he could walk around without any fear of running into the man more than necessary. He had to give Kirishima props, he had been keeping a slight distance and Yokozawa was grateful for that separation.

Of course he was still expected to eat dinner with the man and Hiyori, but only having to be in their presence for forty minutes was acceptable. Even Yokozawa could handle that without flipping his lid.

His mind wandered to Takano for a brief moment and he wondered what his best friend was doing. No doubt he was with Onodera, which annoyed Yokozawa to no end, but he wasn't about to fuck up his mind any more with those sorts of irritating ruminations.

Besides, the door to the back of the house slid open and a petite little girl came out and sat down on the patio step about a foot away from where Takafumi was seated. She didn't say anything at first, just drank her own beverage in silence with him. Hiyori Kirishima really was a good girl and no one would change Yokozawa's opinion otherwise.

"Do you hate me?"

It took a little effort not to choke on his drink when the tiny voice beside him asked such an innocent question.

"Excuse me?" he asked, perplexed. How could she think he hated her? She was an innocent in this mess too.

"You don't seem to like me or daddy and you hate being here, which is why you always stay hidden away in your room. Daddy worries about you."

Yokozawa scoffed. "I'm sure he's really worried," he stated before thinking. The girl's face visibly fell.

"So you do hate it here," she remarked, sadly.

"No," he sighed, a little peeved with his own behavior now, "I don't hate being here. There are simply a lot of things going on in life that are getting on my nerves, Hiyo, but you shouldn't worry about any of them. I'm sorry I showed that side of me when you were right there. It wasn't appropriate for you to hear an argument like that."

Hiyori turned toward the man and looked him in the eye; tears swimming in her own that made Yokozawa feel like an ass.

"I don't want you to feel sad, Onii-san," she said sternly. "I want you to be happy and daddy does too. Only when you're happy will daddy be happy."

Out of the mouths of babes. Yokozawa knew that the kid was way too young to become privy to all that had happened to bring about their little dysfunctional family. If she'd been a decade older then he might have been happy to let her in on all that had happened to bring them together. As it was, Takafumi was willing to at least put on a show of contentment if it would make the girl stop looking so sad. She didn't deserve all of the shit going on in her life.

**. . . . .**

_Two weeks later_

**. . . . .**

"Father, I'm home! Well, _we're_ here, that is!"

Though the calling wasn't directed toward him, since he was near to the front entrance, Yokozawa decided he would make an appearance out of politeness. The tension in the house may have been mounting between himself and a certain frustrating individual, but he had no such strife with Hiyori. Rather, he was actually quite fond of her, when it got right down to it; she was one of the positives in his living situation that Takafumi couldn't deny.

He strode out to the hall to greet her, and that was when he noted the company she was in. Though, if he had been paying more attention, she had implied there were others around. Three, to be exact, two of them pint-sized.

Standing in the doorway taking off their shoes, Hiyori was accompanied by a tall twenty-something towing along a double baby stroller. The other adult in the room had windswept cinnamon hair, and a palpably cheerful demeanor. Yokozawa had met him one time before by chance, though that had been at work when the man had been at Marukawa to drop something off for his husband. Any connection there was to Kirishima's daughter though, he was not clued in on, and so it was a surprise to see him at the door. Thus, there was a note of surprise when he replied, "Welcome home, Hiyo. And ... Yukina-san...?"

"Oh! Onii-chan, this is my cousin. Sorry, did Father not tell you I was over there this weekend?"

The one called Yukina uplifted his twinkling gaze from the shoes to smile in greeting. "Nice to run into you again, Yokozawa-san. I didn't know that you had already moved in; you are living with my cousin now, then?"

Bombarded with two different remarks, Yokozawa furrowed his brow, sorting through them both before answering either. From the latter, he could tell that Kirishima had probably mentioned something to the young man standing before them about his plans to tie Yokozawa down. Rather than making him angrier though, that had the curious effect of softening the edge of his earlier temper. Why though, he couldn't articulate, even to himself.

"I suppose I am living here now," he began cautiously. "What were you doing this weekend, Hiyo?"

"Yukina-nii-san asked me if I wanted to stay over and get to help out with the babies! I hadn't seen them in a little bit, so of course I said yes. Their papa was working the whole time, so he wasn't going to have any company, so that was another reason. Also, Yukina-nii-san is teaching me to paint. I'm not very good at it, but it's still a lot of fun to try. I'll show you one that I made a little bit later, ok, Onii-chan?"

"Promise to show me too?"

Their back and forth seemed to have lured out Kirishima from wherever in the house he had retired to earlier, the man suddenly materializing in the entryway from behind Yokozawa's shoulder. He was grinning slightly, and stepped forward to crouch in front of the stroller, intoning teasingly, "Yep, looks like Hiyo-chan did a good job taking care of these two, like a proper auntie should."

"She was a big help, so thanks for letting her come over, Kirishima-san. It was nice to catch up, too."

"No problem; I know it gets lonely in that house by yourself, huh?"

Yukina kept a calm expression, not alluding to an affirmative on his own will. Though, one could tell that that was somewhat of a yes. His hand latched on tightly to the handle of his daughters' pram, and, quietly, he responded, "I'll be glad when Kisa-san comes home, yes, because I always want to be around him, but I know that he's working hard. He loves his job, and I really do admire all that he does to excel in it. So, in the end, I can wait."

"Well, no more waiting. He'll be finished tonight, I reckon. So, unless you're dying to stay over for dinner, I'll let you get going for today, Kou-kun."

"Some other time, perhaps, after Kisa-san has rested up. I'll ask him if he wants to tag along. Either that or, you could always come over to our place for dinner, Kirishima-san, Yokozawa-san. Maybe we could even invite some of the others from your work, if you'd like, and have a larger get-together?" Yukina perkily suggested, any earlier perceived gloom dissolving in the wake of his planning spree; it looked to Takafumi at least that the young man was be the social type, a plant that bloomed in the sunshine rather than lost in the shade. Rather than giving him whiplash, the easy going nature of the other was more charming than anything.

"What do you say to that, Yokozawa?"

Sky-tinted eyes slanted questioningly at the eldest in their hallway group, wondering what the motivation was to put all of the responsibility of answering on him. In fact, he'd unwittingly become the spotlight of the conversation, the other three casting their gazes on him in waiting.

"It wouldn't be me going to the trouble of putting that together, so I have no room to speak," he quieted the topic in a gruff but neutral fashion.

"You could always throw on a nice apron and give him a hand, then, if you're so _concerned~_ "

"Kirishima-san!" Yukina rebuked the man earnestly for his jest, the young father sensing the discomfort emanating from the third male nearby.

To be honest, Kou was slowly beginning to piece together the dynamic that existed in the residence, and from what he could discern, it was still a bit up in the air. His cousin appeared to be smitten, but it was Yokozawa-san that was the true variable. He couldn't get a perfect read on him to know if there was a chance there or not, but his heart wanted there to be. Kirishima-san was a good guy, and he would have opined that even if they weren't related. He was the kind of man that truly deserved a second happy ending, after the way that his first had been so tragically stolen from him when his beloved wife had passed away, several years prior.

"Ah fine. About the dinner, let's wait on that and see what works best. We'll call you later when we have a better idea of if that could work. Sound good?"

Yukina nodded, peaceably. "That's all right with me. I need to tweak with the details some more anyhow, since it's just something I thought up on the fly. Let me know what would be a good time for us to get together."

He fiddled with the sun shade on his daughters' stroller, getting it ready for the walk home. It was nice for him, truly, living so close to family; his cousins as well as his parents and brother and sister-in-law all lived nearby. He was able to routinely visit everyone on foot, rather than having to bother with a car. The neighborhoods in this part of the capitol were smaller, and pedestrian friendly in that regard.

"Bye now!"

**. . . . .**

It wasn't much later when Yokozawa disappeared into his bedroom. The prior conversation had made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. ' _What in the fuck is he thinking, inviting me without my consent?´_ he growled to himself. For the first time in the short span of his being in that house, he was ready to leave. It was too much and the lack of partnership was starting to get to his nerves.

Not once had Kirishima asked what he wanted for dinner; he was just expected to show up. The man didn't even realize how much he disliked red peppers, yet they had appeared on his plate four times that week already. Yokozawa never ate them, which should have been a clue, but that hadn't sunk in.

Plus, there were the times when Kirishima had insisted he ride home with him, not bothering to ask if Yokozawa had plans. Or when he assumed that Yokozawa would pick Hiyo up from school. Yes, he liked the kid, but that wasn't his kid and he wasn't responsible for her. All of the little things that ended up combining with the fact that he was still a prisoner. He'd never let that bastard into his life and Yokozawa had no desire to stay and find out.

With anger in his head he grabbed his suitcase and started to pile his few belongings inside. There was a motel not far from work where he could stay until he could afford a small apartment of his own. Just because he would never be allowed to marry anyone else didn't mean he had to stay with the man who apparently owned him.

Yokozawa was a little lost in thought and didn't hear the bedroom door open slightly. "What are you doing?"

He gave a moment's glance at the door where Kirishima was standing with a look of confusion on his face.

"You're smart, figure it out!" Yokozawa snapped, grabbing his second suitcase and piling his clothes in without even bothering to make it neat.

"You're packing. Why?" Kirishima asked, heart pounding in his head.

"I'm not going to stay here anymore. It was a stupid idea in the first place."

Zen walked into the room and shut the door, locking it behind him to keep small eyes from seeing what was happening in the room. "Why?"

"If you can't figure that out on your own then it's of no concern of mine." The suitcase was almost packed and he'd soon be free.

Kirishima could feel his soul being ripped from his body. What had brought this on? "Takafumi," he said, gently, laying a hand on the other man's shoulder. "Talk to me," he pleaded.

Yokozawa swatted the offending hand away from him. "I never gave you permission to say my given name," he seethed, dangerously.

"Yokozawa, please talk to me, I don't understand what's going on in your head unless you talk to me. Not once have you opened up except to yell."

The raven-haired man stopped what he was doing and glared. "You need to decide what it is you want. A partner, or property. You don't seem to care about my opinion at all, because you don't ever ask me before you go and do shit like that!"

"What are you talking about? What shit?"

"Everything, Kirishima. Just now you said _I'd_ attend a get-together. Did you ask me; no! You never ask me about anything!" Yokozawa shouted, unable to keep his anger at bay anymore. "You just assume that since I am legally bound to you from now on that I'll do whatever you think up in that brain of yours."

Kirishima didn't know how to react to Yokozawa's anger. He was scared. Not of physical injury, but of losing this man before he had a chance to know him.

"You and my father both seem to think that I am a pet; someone who will obediently roll over and play dead when asked to. You go off and ask me to marry you, without even talking about the idea first, which makes its way back to my father who then decides to plan my life out for me!"

The elder could feel tears in his eyes, swimming and threatening to escape.

Yokozawa felt his energy drain and he crumbled to the floor, arm on the bed. He'd been holding it in for too long and finally it was taking its toll on his body. No tears were in his system, but he felt as if he were having an out of body experience.

"Why didn't you talk to me first? I could have sorted out my feelings before being caged," he mumbled as if no one was in the room with him.

Kirishima didn't know if he should leave or walk over and throw his arms around the other man. Obviously they really needed to talk more. He'd managed, in a very short amount of time, to take a beautiful man, strong and proud, and reduce him to a shell of his former self. How? How had he done that without realizing it from the very start?

Yokozawa had completely closed in on himself and Kirishima knew that it was going to take a lot to rebuild the trust he'd thought they'd had. Obviously that wasn't a true fact. He walked over to the bed and knelt down in front of the man he loved.

"Yokozawa, don't leave like this. Let's talk; that's something we should have done a long time ago. I want you to have a voice, I promise that."

The man in question didn't know how to react. He just wanted to get the hell out of there. But for the first time since arriving at Kirishima's house, he felt something different in the air. It was almost as if some sort of energy was jumping between the two like static electricity. Glancing at the other, he could see hurt reflecting back at him from the man's eyes, and deep inside he knew that wasn't the sort of face a hopeless tyrant would wear. He needed to be reasonable as he could while protecting his soul from harm. That meant trying to listen, just, not tonight. He couldn't quite muster the strength at this moment.

"I'll stay," he mumbled, "but that does not mean it will be forever. Leave," he commanded.

Zen stood up and walked out the door and to his room. He didn't even make it to his bed, so instead he let his back slide against the wall and he hit the floor. This situation was a lot more fucked up than he realized and if he wasn't careful then three people were going to be incredibly damaged with the volcano erupted.

**.**

**.**

**END CHAPTER.**


	17. Beyond Euphoria

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thanks for reading! This chapter will be the last one where Nostalgia are still teenagers, just a heads up! After that, any chapters about them will be set with them as adults.
> 
> Note - In this story, I have decided to name Ritsu's mother "Rin" because I don't think canon ever gave her a proper name.
> 
> ITALICS represent a dream sequence or flashback.
> 
> Pairings: Egoist [First Half]; Nostalgia [Second Half].

(August 28th, 2012)

* * *

' _Holy...what just...?_ ' His heart was pounding a furious rhythm, and his thoughts were grossly disoriented.

Still, like a beacon through it all, he could picture the second man's face before what happened had begun, frowning as if conflicted as to what to do. At that moment, Hiroki had felt a semblance of confusion as well, oblivious to what Nowaki had been intended, but, that ignorance had been shattered with their sudden kiss.

Moving a hand upward to place a finger on either side of his nose, Hiroki attempted to decompress, to make a choice.

He knew that the time was critical. If he brushed off what had happened, the unsettled feelings would only grow more awkward as days passed. He didn't really _want_ to have this discussion right now, but he knew that ultimately it would be best to tackle the issue right away.

Steeling himself, he turned around and rifled around in the half-light, latching onto the handle of the front door and opening it a few inches, peering outward. Thankfully, the younger hadn't run off yet, but his back was to Hiroki, and so the elder couldn't tell what he was feeling.

Clearing his throat, he cautiously called, "Nowaki...?"

It wasn't as strong as he would have liked to sound, and his still reddened face probably only degraded his authority more, but it did ensnare the raven's attention. Nowaki turned back to look at him, and, to Hiroki's surprise, the man looked troubled. It was a small mournful expression playing at the corner of his lips that gave it away, and it was something that Hiroki hadn't wanted to see at all.

Nowaki hesitated just slightly seeing Hiroki's confused demeanor. It was now or never and he hoped within the bottom of his heart it played out the way he wanted it to.

"I would like to try to explain myself, Hiro-san, if you will allow me to do so."

"Just get in," Hiroki recited, voice gruff with embarrassment.

He quickly spun the other direction, leaving Nowaki behind to deal with the front door as he absconded to the nearby living room. The entire walk, though short, felt the whole time as if eyes were boring into the back of him. It was clear as day that although not saying anything to that effect, Nowaki was most likely scrutinizing his every motion for some sort of hint.

They converged in the sitting area, Hiroki unthinkingly positioning himself not in his usual chair, but on one end of the sofa, as if inviting the next action. As most people would have done, Nowaki ambled over to sit beside him there, fashioning a proximity that threaded the academic through with edginess.

For a brief moment Nowaki closed his eyes and allowed himself to take a deep breath. He could feel the closeness of the man he adored and wanted to make sure he spoke with truth etched in his words. This was not the time to be inarticulate. If such a thing were to happen it could easily ruin his chances. That wasn't allowed in his mind.

"My housekeeper, Sayuri-san, has been with the family since my father was a little boy, so she saw him grow up. She told me that the first time my fathers met, they knew instantly that they'd be someone special to each other. But, it took a long time for them to admit to that, because neither was able to accept the idea of love at first sight... it just didn't seem realistic, I suppose. By the time they married, they only had a few happy years together before... it all ended. I want to be honest from the beginning, even if it sounds unbelievable."

He carefully psyched himself up for the admission, swallowed once, and then professed, "...I am in love with you, Hiro-san."

Hiroki felt his heart jump into his throat and then take a dive bomb into his stomach. "Excuse me?" he asked, completely perplexed.

The younger man fidgeted slightly. "I'm in love with you, Hiro-san," he stated firmly. "I have been for a while now."

This confession was so out of the blue, the professor didn't quite know how to respond. Okay, maybe it wasn't completely out of the blue; there had been indicators, but nothing that Hiroki had looked too deeply into. He liked Nowaki, yes, but was it love that he felt? Probably not, at least not the love that the kid was spouting off about.

"I take it you aren't on the same page as me, Hiro-san," Nowaki said, rather dejectedly. He should have known the man wasn't where he was. After all, Hiro-san was so busy he probably didn't have time to think about love, let alone anything prior to that.

"I don't know yet," the smaller man answered truthfully, all the while his heart beating loudly in his ear. _What in the fuck was going on with his body?_ "I-I..."

Nowaki reached over and took hold of the elder's hand in his. It may very well have been the last time they were in a position like this and he didn't want to lose the opportunity.

"Whatever your answer, Hiro-san, I'm glad you know how I feel now. I just want to be near you and occupy your free time," he said with a smile. "It would make me very happy."

Kamijou felt his face flush as he looked away, but didn't take his hand back. How the kid could spout such embarrassing nonsense was beyond his comprehension. He found though, that the idea of spending more time with Nowaki didn't bother him, in fact it actually made him feel wanted and needed.

"I...uh...I'm not adverse to spending more time with you, Nowaki, but we see each other every day, how can we spend more time together?" He completely missed the obvious in trying to steady his throbbing heart.

A smile the likes of which would make a facial model cower overtook Nowaki's face. He hadn't been rejected!

"I want to move in together, Hiro-san. That way I can see you when I wake up in the morning and before I go to bed at night." There, he'd said it without even faltering.

Again Hiroki could feel his heart beating in his ears as well as the tips of his fingers and toes. There was no mistaking his feeling now, he wanted it just as much as the brat, though he'd never concede it. He gave a slight squeeze and nodded his head, which earned him another dashing smile. He'd have turned away had Nowaki not pulled him into a hug of epic proportions.

Trying not to scare the man in his arms any more than how it felt via Hiro-san's heartbeat, Nowaki lowered his head to the man's neck and started to suck on it gently. A gasp, followed by a little movement, was all Hiroki was able to get out when he felt the taller man's lips making a mark on his neck. He'd need to wear a sweater if this continued but somehow he wasn't so wor-

"No-No-Nowaki!" Hiroki gasped when the other man bit deeper into his flesh. He could feel his member start to stiffen and he knew that if this type of assault to his senses continued there'd need to be some rather steamy sex that followed.

"I'm sorry, Hiro-san," Nowaki apologized, "I got a little carried away." He looked at the red mark on Kamijou's neck and used his finger to rub the tender skin.

Redder than a tomato, Hiroki just nodded and pushed back a little. Damn, but that felt good. He hadn't been intimate in so long he actually wanted to continue, but now was not the time. That didn't stop his imagination from running away from him a little while he came to his senses.

_"Nowaki, I'm cold," he stated, rubbing his arms and trying to hide his face from the humiliation._

_"Right, Hiro-san," the big lug responded with a smile._

_They closed the distance...and..._

Hiroki shook his head from the image so as not to need a bathroom break to relieve himself. As it was he really wanted to be held, though he doubted it would happen immediately.

"So you want to move into the rooms here with me?" he asked, putting sex into the far reaches of his mind. That was the logical step since he was Akihiko's adviser.

"To be honest, I worry that doing that here... that it might be better if we looked somewhere a little further away from the capitol. Hiro-san seems very tense lately, and perhaps leaving some distance between the prince and him might alleviate that-"

Hiroki sharply interjected, cutting Nowaki off, "What would make you bring him up?"

"Isn't he the person who is making Hiro-san so worried?"

**. . . . .**

_"You can't just pursue someone else's fiancé, Akihiko. The brat is_ taken _already; you yourself gave approval for him to be married. It's_ _inappropriate to consider doing what you're telling me."_

_The prince shrugged as if to say it was of no consequence after all, and finished off the last of his cigarette, smoke spiraling off over the balcony and into the humid summer air. He flicked it out over the side, having no interest in disposing of it in a more environmentally friendly manner._

_He turned and strode back into the main living area of the apartment, passing by Hiroki on his way through. The brunette watched his trajectory, frowning, as he knew very well that his argument was not properly permeating the young scion's ears and taking root with whatever conscience the man possessed._

_Why would Akihiko even bother to ask him if he didn't plan on considering his advice? Did he think Hiroki would somehow approve of these shenanigans?_

_"Akihiko," he growled out, his own honor driving him to at least make a second stab at deterring the prince's libidinous actions. He knew it was wrong, and if he could put a stop to it, he would do so._

_"I know you don't think highly of your brother, but that doesn't make it all right to disrespect him in this way. If you were engaged, and one of your enemies took a fancy to that person, it wouldn't be fine for them to come onto your intended either. There are no ifs, ands, or buts; it's just plain unconscionable."_

_"Goodbye, old man," Akihiko drawled, still a mask of indifference. He put one hand up in salute, disappearing into the entryway and out the door, leaving the new professor and ex-adviser to his uncomfortable musings._

**. . . . .**

Pensive, he pulled away from the recollection with a darkened frown, of a mind to agree, but disconcerted. Both at the ease with which Nowaki was seeming to read him, and a little residual guilt at not being able to stem the flow of events.

Akihiko was the sort of person to ultimately do as he pleased in most scenarios, but, rarely, he could be swayed if the convincing was coming from someone close to him. With his failure, Hiroki had been left to wonder if he no longer counted as that, or, if he was over thinking it and Akihiko had never meant to be moved from his desires.

Whatever the reality, he had been subjected to the behind-the-scenes of Akihiko's affair with no leverage on stopping it. He had to admit that that did stress him out; who wouldn't, when something like that was being carried on by your closest friend? You wanted to intervene but ultimately couldn't. It was frustrating.

But, more keen than that was his other source of bitter feelings.

Hiroki wasn't truly pining for the prince as he had once, but that didn't mean his love had never happened. When he'd owned up to those emotions to Akihiko, the man had quickly dismissed them without further thought. Yet here, Akihiko was using all his resources to court a brat in a spot that made him hard to obtain. He was putting in a tremendous effort to follow his heart's desires, and yes, it did feel like a slap to the face at times. Hiroki foolishly wondered why his declaration had only garnered a whisper when this Takahashi had gleaned a full-blown roar.

"I'm not wrong, am I, Hiro-san?" Nowaki nudged quietly with speech. The elder came back into his senses again, frowning; for both the question and the expression on the young doctor's face. What was the kid doing, being so persistent with a topic he seemed to at least _understand_ was a sensitive one for him?

Hiroki could almost feel the sadness welling up in his eyes. What Nowaki was questioning was true, without a doubt. Akihiko was the one who was causing his mood to falter. In truth, it made him feel as if he wasn't good enough for the prince, no matter how hard he tried. He'd given his all to that one person and was discarded like some sort of used tissue.

An arm wrapped around the professor as he felt a tear start to trek down his face. He hadn't realized his emotions were visible for all the world to see. What made him curious was why he didn't push away from the embrace. Nowaki was holding him close like he was a precious jewel. That was a first for the tsundere and it made him feel multiple emotions inside.

"Hiro-san, it's okay for men to cry," Nowaki whispered, fully prepared to receive a barrage of insults for admitting such a thing. He wasn't disappointed.

"Fuck you, and everyone else in the world right now, Nowaki," Kamijou wheezed. It didn't come out nearly as threatening as he'd intended, but then he hadn't really wanted to say it in the first place.

"No matter what happens, I don't intend on letting you go," the younger man insisted, pulling him even closer, which he didn't think was possible. "So you can throw a temper tantrum all you want, I'll still be here."

God damn brat, talking like he was king of the world. "You're a smart-ass prick, Nowaki," Hiroki grumbled, but found himself going limp in the other man's arms. It felt nice, the way he'd expected when being held by someone who loved him.

At that thought his eyes went wide. Nowaki did truly love him and he didn't want that love to disappear. He'd spent so much energy on helping his friend and not himself he'd completely missed how much he could have been hurting the one who was willing to jump in front of a runaway train for him.

Hiroki thought back to the prior months, when he'd been watching his best friend pursue an unobtainable individual. If he'd been watching that from the sidelines and Nowaki hadn't been there he'd not have managed to continue living. The pain would have been enough to make him quit his job and leave without so much as a by your leave. It was all thanks to the bratty kid he'd been sane.

"Nowaki," Hiroki mumbled, not wanting to pull away from the embrace just yet. "I want to move in with you too, on a trial basis." He couldn't guarantee the love the kid felt for him would ever be reciprocated, but he could sure as hell try.

Kusama stood up, forgetting that he was the reason his would be lover hadn't fallen over, and shined like a beacon in the night. Hiroki fell to his side with a thud and a few choice words.

"Really, Hiro-san!" Nowaki all but cried in happiness. "Hiro-san?" He looked down and saw the older male on his side, a look of mortification and annoyance on his face. "Oh, I'm so sorry, Hiro-san!" The tall man knelt down so he was nearer eye-level with the other.

"You are something else, Nowaki," Hiroki muttered, sitting himself up just in time to be pulled into a bone crushing hug on the floor. He could feel tears on his shoulder, he presumed from the one giving the hug.

"Thank you so much, Hiro-san," Nowaki breathed. "You've made me the happiest person alive right now."

Normally Kamijou would have rolled his eyes at such a cornball statement, but in that moment he realized that it didn't matter how embarrassing the younger man could be, he needed Nowaki at his side. That way he could start living happily.

The reality was, he couldn't live life for another, not like he had been attempting to before. Hiroki would be better served worrying about his own desires, and not only his friend's.

* * *

**. . . Nostalgia . . .**

(August 9th, 2002)

* * *

' _What to do?'_

Ritsu fidgeted restlessly in the chair he was seated on, angling his body this way and that as he squirmed from unease. Truth be told it would be a miracle if he got any useful studying done today. There was too much stewing in his mind; a maelström of scenarios of how to say what was at the forefront, or if he should wait, or if he should - many different options presented themselves for judgment. The young scion could hardly ask anyone for advice though, and so he was left to sort them out as he could, staring helplessly at the textbooks spread out on the table before him.

Of course, when he happened to glance at Senpai across the desk, the elder boy was working along dutifully, effortlessly, as he always seemed to with schoolwork. Masamune had a concentration at times that Ritsu rather envied. Nothing ever seemed to faze him.

Oppositional to that calm façade, he was about ready to burst, unable to focus on anything other than what he was trying to psych himself up to say. The ultimate truth was that he _had_ to say it, he needed to be honest, but, at the same time, if what he said didn't go over well... Ritsu wasn't sure how he'd recover from the let down.

"What's wrong?" Masamune finally inquired, sussing the discomfort emanating from every pore of Ritsu's body and deciding to respond to it. "Are you stuck on something?"

"No," Ritsu answered quickly, volume set on ultimate low. The only reason he was heard was because of their proximity. "I'm not stuck on anything, but th-thank you for asking."

"Why are you twitching like that, then? Do you not feel good or something?"

"Oh, uh, I guess I don't feel well... but..." he paused, chiding himself internally. That was **not** what he was supposed to be talking to Takano about! He couldn't let himself get distracted, or then he'd really lose his nerve! He just needed to say it.

"Fever? Cold? Any pain?"

However, at the torrent of questions, Ritsu only clammed up, his head beginning to spin with anxiety.

"If you don't tell me, then neither I or anyone can help you," Takano pointed out bluntly, eyes narrowed, "so, what's the problem?"

"S-Senpai," he stammered, face brightening up as the moment of truth neared. He gulped visibly, and then blurted out, "I-I think that I have a baby in me!"

Ritsu flushed completely red, quickly rushing to assure, "Of-Of course if... if that's true, it's definitely yours, I mean...!" his voice cracked and he futilely gaped, eyes squeezing tightly shut in pure humiliation. WHY would that occur to him to say? Senpai hadn't even doubted him! But, would he have if Ritsu hadn't said that?

The boy then hunched forward on the table, doing his best to curl up in a ball - despite the fact that it was impossible to do, sitting in a chair. He thought the moment horrendous; it certainly wasn't how he had planned on telling his intended about his condition.

There was a brief but tense silence, the brunette sweating profusely as he unconsciously waited, for either chastisement or approval.

Eventually, Masamune reached out one hand, gently flicking one of his fingers at Ritsu's forehead to garner the boy's attention. "What are you doing hiding your face like that?" the other asked, awfully calm sounding for a time like this. "Stupid."

Verdant irises peeked out from the curtain of his hands, splaying the fingers in order to get a measure of Takano's expression. Rather than the horror or the annoyance than the youth had been dreading would appear there, the other wore a more benevolent face. That simple relief was enough to coax him from hiding, and he dropped both hands, ready to brave further discussion.

"When did this happen, Onodera?" the elder inquired, tone comforting in its own way.

Considering the time for a moment in his mind, Ritsu answered, "I wasn't sure for a while why I was feeling this way, but... yesterday when I went home after school, there was something on TV that was talking about an idol who was pregnant, and they were interviewing him. One of the questions they asked was how he was doing, health wise. He told them he'd been pretty sick for a month, and... just... it shocked me, because it was how I had been feeling."

Masamune regarded Ritsu with a carefully controlled visage. In truth, the response sent an unannounced chill down his spine. It was impossible for him to not notice that Onodera was feeling under the weather, even if he refused in admitting that truth. But, never would he have guessed it was anything other than a regular bug; the thought just hadn't crossed his mind. So to hear his story was as odd as it must have been for Ritsu at the time he'd seen the item on television.

"And then, I had to really think about it, because yes, I was having those same symptoms, but I wanted to think it was for a different reason. Still, I know Senpai and I have..." Ritsu paused in his statement awkwardly, and then creaked the rest out rather mechanically from embarrassment, "done _things_ without... being careful exactly... um..."

They had made love a few times over the past two months or so, though not as frequently as Takano would have preferred, thanks to both supervision and Ritsu's own balking at such an embrace. For some reason that the older couldn't understand, Ritsu's mind was in a place where he felt extremely uncomfortable even thinking about them joining. He'd tried to root out the cause so that he could quash it, but the brunette was so mum on the subject that it'd been thus far impossible.

"If you had to guess, when do you think we got pregnant?"

"M-maybe the first time?"

"Hmm... We should get you to a doctor, to make sure the baby's doing okay. You've been feeling sick lately, haven't you? It's best to get all checked out." And, as if to further cement the statement, Takano suddenly reached across the small table, placing his hand on top of Ritsu's. Looking as close to straight on as the anxious younger would permit, he made startling eye contact when he added, "I want to make sure you get better, also."

It was such a simple statement, but it caused Ritsu to gulp upon hearing it.

Other than that, all he could do was nod in agreement.

**. . . . .**

After getting the truth out in the open, time hadn't been wasted in following through on their plans. That very afternoon, they bundled up for the crisp weather and traveled together into the city center where the hospital was located to see a family doctor who was a stranger to both boys' families. Obviously, it was a sensitive subject to be checked out for, considering their age, so it was better to meet with someone who would have no reason to leak the results before either was ready to tell their parents.

That was how they found themselves in the office of Hashiwara Kenichi, a crusty old physician who was in the perfect age range to be either of the two's great-grandfather. He was someone who seemed like a likely choice to safeguard their information, compared to some of the flashier, elite physicians in the medical complex. Types like those wanted recognition of their work most of all, and weren't above selling information in trade for attention, fame, or financial kick-backs.

So far it appeared to be the right decision.

"I am reading that you are Onodera Ritsu-sama, and your reason for being in my office today is for a pregnancy test. Is that correct, or is there anything else you would like me to look at, additionally?"

The youth glanced down for a moment at his legs dangling off the examination table before meeting the doctor's eyes again. Nodding slowly, he replied, "That's everything. I haven't been feeling good but I think that's why I haven't... that I have a baby inside, I mean... I know it's probably crazy to think that without having gotten tested or anything, but I'm pretty sure that's what's going on. It's just a feeling I have, sensei."

"Hmm," the man murmured, flipping over a new page on his clipboard. "It is true that the male does not have as easy a time ascertaining pregnancy, due to the lack of a cycle as a female has, but it's also not uncommon for him to know something is unusual. I am not of course saying you are definitely with child, Onodera-sama, but more that you may not be wrong. To confirm we will want to have you tested, as I'm sure you are aware."

"And what sorts of tests are you thinking of doing, Doctor?" Takano piped up, standing near to the bed. "If it's the scope search exam, I think you'd better pick some other option."

"And he is?" Hashiwara inquired, fixing his gaze on Masamune with a suspicious stare.

"He's um..." Ritsu then faltered, realizing that he didn't know what would be most appropriate to call him. Fiancé? Should he pretend Senpai was family? Did the doctor's office have rules like that, where only family could sit in on a visit?

"I'm the father, if he's pregnant," Masamune answered smoothly, stony face never belying any sort of expression. Hashiwara nodded noncommittally and then went back to looking through the intake forms.

"But I know that he wouldn't want to do that type of exam, so it'd be better if we could do something else. It's too invasive," he tacked on. Ritsu tilted his gaze to look at the older boy, wondering why Senpai had spoken up so rigidly like that. It was... sort of true that he'd been dreading having to undergo that method because it made him uncomfortable to think about, but, he'd never said to Takano anything about his opinion. Had Senpai somehow read his mind?

The scope search exam was potentially the most embarrassing way of going about things, but was used more commonly these days because its accuracy was unparalleled. In truth it was a variation on an ultrasound exam where the transducer was inserted into the canal in order to gain higher resolution when imaging the absence (or presence) of a gestational sac.

Just thinking about having to do all that in the middle of a doctor's office, suffice to say, had not been an enticing prospect to Onodera. He'd much rather give some blood for the lab tests. And that was saying something, as he thoroughly _detested_ needles.

"I do not think that you have to bristle like that with me, Takano-sama; I had no intention of going about it that way. I know that is the popular method right now, but well, surely you can see I am quite ancient, and my preferred methods reflect that. Too many good physicians forget that just because there is a new science right now that before then, we all got along just fine with the old science. Gadgets may be intriguing but an old-fashioned physical exam will tell me easily enough if your loved one here is carrying. There are simple signs that will lead us to that conclusion."

"Onodera-sama, do you know the feeling in your muscles when you've tired them out quite a bit, like after sport or other exertion? A soreness, perhaps?"

Ritsu nodded silently, catching on that there was likely a second part to the inquiry.

"All right, and if you do, can you point out any areas to me where you might have felt that sensation recently?"

"Well, I guess my back," Ritsu paused, thinking over the query carefully, "and maybe like here too." The boy placed a hand each on his sides, running the fingers down the length of his body above the hips. "Kind of all over in those areas. It feels like I'm tired, but in my body, not energy wise."

"And have you been intimate since these sorts of symptoms began?"

The brunette dropped his gaze, but made a gesture of confirmation. Just the other night, in fact, Senpai and he had been intimate together after watching a movie.

"Any discomfort during that time, or pain?"

The question made him feel anxious, as it was true that it had hurt a little at first, but, he didn't want to worry Takano. Ritsu could sense golden-brown eyes trained thoughtfully on him, waiting to see how he'd respond to the question, and he'd feel bad saying yes under the scrutiny.

Still, he needed to be honest with the doctor. He opened his mouth, whispering, "Yes." But, at a higher volume, Ritsu qualified immediately, "But it wasn't like that the whole time... it still felt g-good!"

"You stated here in your intake form that you've also been experiencing nausea and a general tired feeling, which would also lead me in that direction, but, we need a bit more than that to be sure," Hashiwara expounded, brushing off the embarrassing topic as if it were nothing to him, "Depending on how long you might have been pregnant, we'll be looking for different signs that are less obvious to you. If I may, do you have any idea as to when you conceived?"

"June twenty-fifth," the older boy provided, before Onodera could even enter a guess.

Hashiwara turned a scrutinous gaze upon Ritsu, as if imploring him to confirm that time frame.

Turning a bit pink, he inclined his head, stammering, "It couldn't be before that, because that.. my first... if it wasn't then, then it would have to be after then."

Secretly though, the part that had caught him most off guard was how quickly Takano was able to pull that date out of thin air. Either he had a steel trap of a memory, or... or something, because Ritsu hadn't even remembered the exact day off the top of his head, just a general idea of what part of the month it had been.

After jotting down the estimate, the doctor began in on with a few other questions, about what symptoms Ritsu had been experiencing, and, to the boy's relief, the man informed him that they were all normal, and gave him some advice on how to stifle or tone down certain ones, such as nausea. Once that part of the appointment was through, Hashiwara announced that before they wrapped up, he'd like to do a physical examination.

Anxious to have all the possible information, they both had consented.

**. . . . .**

"I will ask you to please hold up your shirt for me, Onodera-sama," the doctor ordered in the same monotone as he'd employed thus far. "I will then palpate the back."

Ritsu complied, gingerly lifting up his shirt and waiting for the older male to do his examination.

Truth be told though, he was a little confused as to why the doctor would need to look at his back. From what little he did know about pregnancy, it was the stomach side that was most affected, not where Hashiwara-sensei was peeking. In the end though, the man was a physician for a reason, so he must know something that Ritsu didn't.

"For the first few weeks of pregnancy, it is possible to feel the gestational sac before it shifts further forward in the course of fetal maturation by palpation of the back. While the majority of the population born with the andropelvic organ have it situated slightly left of mid-line, a small percentage lie to the right instead. In you, Onodera-sama, that seems to be the case."

Ritsu squirmed slightly under the continual prodding, worriedly inquiring, "What's going to happen to me?"

Little of what the elder was saying made any sense to him. All he heard was that something about him was different, and he immediately assumed the worst. It didn't help that while the doctor was prodding around, his back felt unusually tender to the touch. There was a noticeable burning sensation in the muscle that he couldn't remember ever feeling before until the area was poked.

"There is nothing to worry about, young master; it is a normal anatomical variation. As time goes on it will correct itself. I will go ahead and order a lab workup to cross-confirm your hormone levels, but as of now, I feel confident in saying that you are indeed with child. You will want to come back in a few weeks for your first ultrasound. At that appointment we should be able to to calculate a more precise due date, but from the day you provided to me, the estimate would be mid-March."

At first, when the pronouncement came down, Ritsu was stunned.

Stunned to a level that wasn't tenable, considering he'd all but known just by himself that his body had changed, and had come to this appointment with that idea in mind. Still, perhaps there had been some tiny part of his thinking that held out for the opposite truth, that he wasn't pregnant and this was just some sort of passing virus hitting him unusually hard.

After all, on the subject, he wasn't sure how he felt about it yet. Didn't know whether to think it was a good thing or a travesty.

What he was most worried about though, was how the other important person in this equation viewed it.

That was why, once the doctor had left the room, he was surprised by two lanky arms encasing him in a hug as he remained sitting on the exam table. They wrapped around him quicker than he could register it, and the embrace he soon experienced was warm to a degree that was even new to him, despite any others he'd received over the past few months.

Eyes wide, he turned to stare up at Takano's face questioningly, waiting for an explanation for this sudden wave of action.

"A-Aren't you mad?"

"Nope. Why would I be mad?" Takano shifted, resting his face in the crook of the younger's neck, airily pressing a light kiss to the bared skin. "I'm happy."

"But it's... it's... we're not even married, Senpai," Ritsu tried to explain calmly, but inevitably his tone shook. "And still in school, and everything!"

"First... don't worry about it. I'm going to marry you before he or she gets here, and, about age... I don't really care about that either. We'll make it work. For now though, I want to keep this news between you and me; enjoy it for ourselves, for just a little while. Is that okay with you?"

"Why though?" he inquired, not following the other's train of logic quite yet.

"Well, think about it. Our parents probably will be a little upset at first before they get over it, and wouldn't it be better to wait, and actually enjoy knowing this before they hear and do that? Everything will work out in the end, I'm sure, but let's be happy for a month or two."

"That long?" Ritsu wondered aloud as the two boys began packing up for the trip home. "Should we really wait that long to tell them? Wouldn't they maybe figure it out before then? I... I'm probably going to get big with our baby; everyone else I've known who is pregnant does."

"If they piece it together themselves, then the worst case scenario is we'll have to tell them they're right. Nothing bad is going to come of it either way they find out, so I wouldn't worry so much."

**. . . . .**

The train station was in a different part of the city from where they were, and it was a pleasant if cold day outside, so Takano and Onodera decided they'd walk to the depot. On the return they found themselves engrossed in a comfortable silence, striding side by side; each was preoccupied with their own thoughts for the time being. Amongst the happy came natural anxieties, plaguing them if only because it was normal to worry that much with the situation they were in.

Ritsu was a little antsy about what he'd promised Masamune earlier - to keep the baby a secret.

He couldn't say that he'd ever lied to his parents, so it was giving him some apprehension to think of doing that. But, surely an occasion wouldn't arise where they'd flat out ask him if he was pregnant? That would seem out of turn. So, if it was, then he could probably go along without having to directly fib. He could manage it down to the lesser crime of dishonesty by omission. That much wouldn't kill him any time soon.

On the other half of the equation, though he hadn't disclosed it to his fiancé, Takano was feeling a different flavor of worry. When Ritsu had first approached him with the idea that he was pregnant, that hadn't bothered him, but merely because it seemed unlikely. Not in an evidential sense, as they hadn't been careful on the sporadic occasions they joined, but more in the sense that pregnancy was such a huge event; intangible almost. He hadn't been able to take it seriously at the time.

Of course, now he had to. It was definitively true, and sometime early next year, he could expect to take on the role of a father.

Masamune had to wonder to himself - was it just him or did anyone ever feel ready for that niche? He wasn't, as things stood, but he was damned if he wasn't going to try his best.

Even if the prospect was beyond his mental grasp, Takano felt that he wanted it, and wanted to be there for the child in a way his own parents had never been. He had already committed himself to Onodera, and thus he desired to support the younger as well. He just needed to find a way to mature himself before that horizon drew closer, if he could.

**. . . . .**

Along the way, there was a store that piqued their interest. It stood sandwiched between one on either side, but its bright colors set it apart from the more traditional looking venues, capturing both teens' attention until they took note of what the proprietorship offered. A children's and infant store. It felt at that time a little like fate, happening upon something so close to their recent finding.

Gazes merged for a brief moment and opinions were silently shared.

"Come on; let's go in. I wanna get something for the baby." Masamune's hand tugged on his, inevitably pulling him into the shop whether he protested or not. Though, when the other had said that, Ritsu had felt only happiness burgeoning within his system.

Once inside the front door, the duo was greeted with a layout equally as inviting as the window display foretold. The walls were painted a warm yellow color, and the many shelves and racks of pint-sized clothing brought to mind the very essence of a nursery. The boutique appeared to be divided into two main divisions, girls' items and boys', with the center of the store hosting products that were unisex in their appeal.

"Kind of makes you wonder, doesn't it?"

"Wonder what, Senpai?"

"Their gender."

"...I guess so. But, I think I'd be okay either way," Ritsu opined honestly. "When it's... later on, do you want to know, or would you want it to be a surprise?"

"You can pick. You're having her or him, anyway. I'll leave that up to you."

With those words, the older boy took off, circling around one of the nearest set-ups on the prowl.

"I am curious," he admitted timidly, following after Takano, "but the idea of waiting is nice, because wouldn't it be a bigger surprise if we don't know until they get here?"

"On the flip side, that's probably going to be a stressful time, giving birth, so how well would you be able to enjoy it?" Ritsu gaped.

Masamune dragged out a long sigh, sensing the misinterpretation without any verbal confirmation. "I'm not saying you'll have any trouble in labor, but it seems like everyone is at least a little bit frazzled during, and immediately after going through that. It's just something to consider."

"Oh...I-I know that, Senpai. I mean...obviously giving birth is not going to be...easy," Ritsu gulped and lowered his head in humiliation at being found out. He didn't really have all that much knowledge on having kids since he didn't have any younger siblings.

Takano placed his hand the kid's head and ruffled his hair. "I'll be there with you so you don't have to worry, it's a promise." Something caught his eye as he slightly turned from his blushing fiancé and he made a beeline for the rack, leaving Ritsu in his wake.

The younger stood in one spot, watching the elder disappear amongst the clothes. He'd wait right where his lover left him since he didn't want to get lost.

In truth he was rather overwhelmed by all the stuff for babies. Never in his life had he entered a boutique where baby items were sold. He and Senpai would need to save a lot of money to care for their child if they were going to be paying for everything themselves. After looking at one bib and seeing the price, Ritsu didn't know how they'd be able to handle it if they didn't have their family's support. It made him reflect for a moment on people his age who were less privileged; how did they get on?

Ritsu walked half a step to the north and his eyes glued to the display of cute little girl's dresses. They were for babies between six and twelve months. He'd have a while to wait if they were having a girl. But he really wanted to carry his daughter around wearing one of those tiny, expensive dresses.

"They're absolutely adorable, aren't they?" a voice from slightly behind him asked.

The pregnant teen jumped and turned around, face flushed. Behind him was a woman, belly visibly swollen with child, and a smile on her face.

"Are you looking for something for your little sister?" the woman inquired curiously.

Onodera shook his head quickly, averting his eyes.

"Then, is it for you?" the woman pressed.

He nodded slowly, unable to speak. Ritsu missed the smile that graced the woman's face because he felt rather ashamed.

"Really, congratulations," the woman chirped brightly, "do you know what you're having?"

"Um, I-we don't really know yet. We just found out today that I'm h-having a baby."

He lifted his gaze anxiously, meeting the woman's kind brown eyes with some trepidation.

It didn't seem like he had any reason to be worried, yet, Ritsu couldn't help himself. He knew how it might look to some people who were more judgmental, Senpai and himself being so young and expecting. But, when he truly looked at the newcomer's face, he felt no such scrutiny. Instead she eyed him curiously, one soon-to-be-parent to another, and that instinct was what finally put him at ease.

"How about you? Do you know... what gender your baby is?" Ritsu inquired, letting his shoulders lower and release some of the stored up tension.

"We're having a little princess, come December!" a man's voice interjected proudly.

He soon came into view, side-winding around one of the circular racks and pulling up at his wife's right hand.

Compared to the jovial cast of his words, the man was very well-put together, sporting clothes that would be common in any respectable office and a handsome mop of caramel hair. Hazel eyes twinkled down at Ritsu, who, rather than shrinking back into himself at the attention, felt unexpectedly comfortable in the newcomer's presence. He too, seemed willing to treat the boy as a normal person.

The woman seemed to roll her eyes a little at the other's marked enthusiasm, but a faint smile tugged at her mouth none the less.

"Oh? Congratulations," Ritsu offered, truly meaning it, but not sure if there was anything else he ought to add.

"Thanks," the man grinned.

"Don't take all the credit now," she interjected, "it takes two after all. ...That reminds me. Are you here alone, ...?"

"Um, no," the boy was induced to reply, adding to the second question, "my name is Onodera. Uh... my.. fiancé is here, somewhere. I don't know where he is."

"Probably trying to buy half the store, if he's anything like this character you see at my right. I think they go a bit overboard at times, because they know they have to make up for the fact that they get off scot-free from carrying for nine months. It's not so bad, though," the woman joked, "to be pampered a bit. I hope your guy is taking good care of you. Is he the same age as you, Onodera-kun, or older?"

"A little bit older. We're both in school though."

The man whistled, clamoring in an interruption, "That is young. But, hey, Sakura and I aren't exactly ancient ourselves. So I guess not much could be said, other than good luck. Be sure not to give up on your ambitions, Onodera. Parenthood is important but it's still your life. You have to live it as best as you can and go after your goals when possible. Anyway, enough serious stuff. I'm sure you'll get lots of that from your own folks. Do you know when you're due? Anywhere close to our little girl?"

"I think the doctor said mid-March, but he also said he couldn't be completely sure until my blood-work comes back. So I guess after your baby."

"Mm, well they'll be close together then. Oh!" she voiced, "have you thought about what you'll do for the nursery theme? This store has been giving me all kinds of ideas already; I'll have to come back some time."

"Huh?" Ritsu sputtered in confusion. "I-I hadn't even-"

No, that certainly wasn't something he'd considered yet, but he supposed it was of some importance. He had been under the view that the baby would be sleeping with them, but, the more the youth panned the idea out in his head, he knew that wouldn't do. Both for... less palatable reasons, but also out of tradition. Only commoners co-slept with their children; that was well known. Anyone of title normally had the space for the child to reside elsewhere, and a governess to look after the little one's well-being when the parents were busy. Ritsu couldn't imagine his parents approving of them trying to do everything themselves when it was never done that in that fashion.

Honestly, it only drove home more that he had scarcely an idea of what he was in for. A thought that worried him immensely.

"We should probably start walking to the hospital, Zen," the woman directed at the man. Unbeknownst to Onodera, she'd about figured her comment had only sent him down an unfavorable path, and was looking to give him some respite. "The class is in twenty minutes. And I don't want to be tardy again. The look the instructor gave last time was terrible. I just know she was judging us already."

"But we had an excellent reason for being a little late," he nudged her teasingly, a sly look on. Nearby, Ritsu shifted on his feet, a little skittish again that he was intruding on their private conversation.

"Maybe," she conceded, impressively straight-faced, "but I'd rather not endure that again. I just want to learn from it and not get into any squabbles. So, come on, let's get going. You have the bags and everything?"

"Yep, no supervision needed!" Zen raised the items in question that he was toting in each hand.

"All right then." The woman turned to Ritsu, addressing him plainly, "Good luck with everything. And, you never know, our children may end up in school together, so perhaps we'll meet again!"

"Thank you," Onodera replied quietly, giving his elders a quick bow.

He wanted really to talk more with them, despite himself, but they seemed to have an important appointment ahead of them. Either way, he hoped it would be true, and that they, and their children would meet again. It would make him more comfortable to already have one potential ally in this new stage of his life. It wasn't that Takano wasn't enough for him, but it was important to have a large support system, one that included things like friends, who knew the same troubles you yourself were facing.

Sighing errantly, the youth cast his gaze around the boutique, looking for the one he'd come in with. The last he'd seen of Takano, the raven had had something ensnare his attention elsewhere, a toy, perhaps, or some passing fancy. He still didn't want to walk away from where he'd been left, so instead Onodera resolved to more carefully examine what was near to him while he waited.

Only, as soon as the married couple had departed the venue and he'd turned to the nearest rack, he was called out by a familiar voice.

"Ritsu, look at this cap I found," Masamune hailed, the lanky teen traipsing his way back through the maze of infant clothing racks, clutching a miniature cap in his hand.

The hat in question was a soft leafy green hue, the fabric texture somewhere between fleece and velvet. The moment his gaze alighted on it, Ritsu's heart started pounding a samba in his chest. It was somehow perfect, that one little item Senpai was holding, and seeing it, it was if all he'd been told today finally, truly hit home. Soon, in a matter of months, they would have a baby together, one tiny enough to wear a cap exactly like this. It wasn't some crazy fantasy, or a dream. It was their real life.

Realizing that nearly took his breath away.

By the time his fiancé was by his side once more, Ritsu could hardly form a coherent sentence without the fear of sounding like some babbling idiot. So, rather than embarrass himself with speech, he allowed Takano to hand over the diminutive garment so that he could weigh it in his own hands.

"Do you like it?"

Slowly, Ritsu found himself nodding to the question, vision fixed on the newborn cap, pointedly avoiding looking at the older boy straight on. A hot blush was currently staining his features. A similar warmth was building in his very stomach at Senpai's attentiveness so far today. Ritsu wasn't sure if it was his hormones or anything, but just the other doing so much for him made him want to hold onto Takano and never let him go.

Masamune crept a step closer, murmuring quietly in addition, "I was drawn to it because of the color; it's like your eyes. I really hope our baby's will be the same."

"But Senpai, it's too expensive," Ritsu intoned sheepishly, looking at the tag on the hat in vain to distract himself from Takano's motions.

"I don't agree."

The raven-head gingerly pulled the cap from Ritsu's fingers, and, with both hands, pressed it up against the younger's slightly perked stomach as if trying to picture how it would look. The simple action devastated him. Juxtaposing that with Takano's serious expression, he felt supported in a way that he didn't think would be possible when he had woke up this morning and come to the conclusion that he was pregnant, and needed to tell the elder.

"I'm getting this," Takano confirmed a moment later, voice as decisive as the words. "So..." he stepped forward, and in that instant all Ritsu saw was blinding white as fingers gently pushed his bangs up and out of the way, and a tender kiss was pressed against his forehead. The soft impact stunned him.

"Wait here for me. Then maybe we can get something for you, too."

**. . . . .**

(October 12th, 2002)

**. . . . .**

For the past two months, they had kept the happy truth just between the two of them, never letting on to anyone around them about their baby. In that span of time, Ritsu had never felt more utterly content in his entire life.

As usual this year, things moved so very fast, it seemed, but one good thing happened right after another, filling his life with sunshine and reinvigorated hope for the future.

With this development in particular, he caught himself dreaming up more and more what it would be like, to have to care for a tiny child, the concern of whether he'd be able to do that well or not, how it would affect everything else he had thought he would do in the coming years - college, career, marriage, home. There were so many scenarios to run through that his fanciful brain could hardly keep up.

Some things had stayed the same.

Masamune and he both were still in school, after all, so there were classes, tests, assignments to be dealt with; family obligations for them both as well. Ritsu had been working hard at all of it though. His thoughts now that he knew he was going to be a parent was that out of anything, he wanted his child to be proud of him, so he resolved to achieve as much as he possibly could, to show them things that were important in life to follow through with.

Over the days, they had begun to talk more about the future, and how they would have adjust everything around their impending addition.

The plan that formed out of those discussions was loose, simple. Marry. Go to university, and, after that, they'd work and try to have another kid or two. With both of them being only children, there was a desire not to do the same, yet they knew they should put it off until they were more settled. That would mean a sizable age gap between this baby and the next, but it wasn't the end of the world.

But, Ritsu realized, there was a long way to go before any of those plans could even be carried out. He had to get through the majority of this pregnancy, and then see if he was as capable of handling the responsibility as he hoped to be. Any set vision of the future was subject to change at any time during the process. It was good to have an idea in mind of what they both wanted from life, but flexibility was the superior trait by far. Taking it one day at a time was not a bad strategy.

The youth let out a quiet yawn, one out of waking more than any fatigue, and wriggled slightly in his laying place. His body hardly moved an inch, and it was then that his brain remembered the way he'd fallen asleep the prior night.

Takano had been staying over this weekend, a usual occurrence on those days of the week, and they'd drifted off encased in a spooning hold, the elder laying snug behind him. It could explain why he'd slept so soundly. On nights when he had his bed to himself, it could take up to an hour for his brain to shut off and surrender to sleep, but when the other occupied it with him, that time was greatly reduced. The coincidence was one Onodera couldn't explain, but acknowledged nonetheless.

All the same, once he had risen and partaken of the first few minutes of cognizance to ready himself for the day, Ritsu was anxious to get out of bed. However, due to the human prison he was warmly encased in, that would prove no easy feat.

The youth squirmed some more, hands trying to pry off Senpai's as inoffensively as possible, but the raven-haired wasn't budging for anything. Sighing, he evaluated his options. Either wake Takano up to gain escape, or wait patiently for the other to rise of his own volition. It was a Sunday, so the brunette figured he couldn't begrudge the older teen a little extra slumber for his own selfish reasons.

Ritsu was wondering how to pass the time when he summarily paused in his mental meanderings, focus attuning to an odd sensation in his abdominal region. It felt a little like floating, or butterflies in the stomach, but he couldn't be certain.

Blinking in surprise, he slid one hand down reflexively, feeling out the top of his stomach. Whatever it was, it was faint, but it was just strong enough to make him wonder if it really could be what he thought it was.

For a few moments he didn't move a muscle, waiting for further proof. And, once again, he felt that gentle stir.

After that, Ritsu felt a little more confident in it. He gathered his nerve, and turned the opposite direction in the bed, putting a hand on Takano's shoulder to wake him up. Thankfully, it didn't take much prodding before the older boy opened his heavy-lidded eyes to the persistent encouragement.

"What's wrong?" Masamune queried, hefting a half-hearted yawn.

"I-I wanted you to try to see if you could feel it also, Senpai. There's this weird... feeling... in here... I think it's the baby... he's moving around," Ritsu answered, too thrilled at the idea to care that his smile was probably a tad over-eager.

"I still think it's a _girl_ , but... okay. Where?"

"...Where?"

"Where do you feel the moving? Show me."

"Here."

Ritsu indicated the area with a single finger, drawing a loose circle around where the unusual sensation had emanated from. Masamune quickly navigated a hand there, pushing down against the solid bump with adamant pressure. They fell silent as Ritsu waited for him to experience what he had just felt. However, a minute or two passed, and not a single word parted from the elder's lips.

"Do you-" Ritsu faltered, mouth pursing with emotion. The lack of a response was beginning to worry him. "Don't you feel it, Senpai?"

"-I really can't feel anything. Are you feeling whatever it is right now?"

"Yes." Tears began to bloom at the corner of each emerald eye, "I can, so why can't you?" He put his hand over Takano's, attempting to drive a little more force behind the motion, as if that would better clarify everything. "It's right there."

Staring into the younger's eyes, Takano knew that the boy was excited about the possibility, and he needed to word his opinion softly in order not to disappoint him too much. Catching Ritsu's gaze straight on, he opened his mouth and carefully stated, "I believe it's a little early, which is why there isn't much to feel, _yet_. I think what you think you're feeling is probably something else, but, when it's time, you'll know instantly when he - or she - is actually shifting around."

Despondent, a teary face looked back at Masamune, the other uttering, "You don't think there's anything wrong with them, do you? I-I really am scared of that. There's not much I can do to save them... some things just happen randomly, and... and..."

Takano moved a hand to the top of Ritsu's head, firmly stroking into the younger's scalp in a relaxing pattern. "I know there's a lot to worry about, but I don't want you to do that. I'm confident our baby is healthy, and will continue to be. So stop. You being stressed out is only going to be a bad thing."

Conceding after a long moment, Onodera leaned back into his previous pose on his side, hand absentmindedly clasped onto one of Senpai's forearms as he drifted off in thought. There really was a lot to ponder those days, so it was a pastime he found himself occupying often. Planning, hoping, and considering how everything would play out in reality.

For one thing, there was the fact that neither of the teens' parents had any idea they would be grandparents in a few months' time. That was something that made Ritsu anxious to keep from them, as much as he had enjoyed the thrill of sharing a secret only with Senpai at first. It was an innocent deception, but one he was thinking should really be put to an end already.

As the other lay heavier against him, Onodera imparted this thought. "When do you want to tell our parents, Senpai? I don't know if I can keep it from them any longer since I'm starting to show. And... we should, so that we can-"

"I know." Takano sidled dangerously close, and, with a squeak of surprise, Ritsu realized that the other was definitely in a - _the_ mood.

"I think today is-" he imparted, heavy breaths laboring forth as he began to glide against Ritsu's softer frame, tinges of ecstasy apparent in his tone, "-we should tell them today. I want to be married to you already."

The boy's heart rate began to skyrocket with the multifarious thrill of everything; the words, their implications, Senpai's body clashing with his own, giving such innocent yet profound stimulation... Ritsu could hardly conceive of what to respond to that.

"H-How should we do that?" he blurted, blood rushing up into his face at the idea of so boldly revealing their secret, even if he had suggested it to begin with. "I mean who knows how they'll take it. Do you think your parents will even be okay with that? And mine..."

Masamune laughed, the utterance short and gruff in his ear. "What are you going on about at a time like this?"

Ritsu flushed with some mortification, as if suddenly analyzing his own behavior for the worse.

Timid, he squeezed both mouth and eyes shut, shoulders beginning to tense as well. At that time, he didn't necessarily want to even breath or move, fearing he'd only launch into another such misstep. Inwardly, he had to wonder if he could really be so dense that he couldn't even sustain the mood in these situations. It wasn't as if he was trying to ruin it!

One broad hand swept forth, placing itself firmly over the swell of his stomach. Bed creaking intelligibly, Masamune scooted closer to him, swinging one leg over Ritsu's and spooning him fully. The younger let out a squeaky breath at the intimate position, able to feel the other's raging tip pressing into the soft canvas of his flesh. Feebly, he waited for some sort of direction. Were they going to...?

"Can I?" Masamune inquired lowly, clinging to the smaller body like a second skin.

Head spinning, Ritsu turned his head and his eyes caught Takano's, visions merging with desire.

In that moment, he felt so inexplicably close to him that there seemed to be nothing else left in the world but the single room and their family of three. It didn't even feel so bold at that time to angle his view sharper and touch his mouth to Senpai's waiting one, stretching for a tender kiss. He wanted it, simple as that. An electric sensation coursing down the length of their coupled bodies was the immediate reward, the warmth of both mingling with strains of anticipation.

Masamune's hand slowly navigated from his midsection up over his shoulder, raising all the light hair on his arm as his skin was mapped. Fingers scrunched at his flesh, gently urging him to shift in his place until his back sunk into the pliant embrace of the mattress. Moments later, he was being stared down upon with gleaming golden intent, Takano's body lofty and carefully mounted over his own.

The raven nudged at Ritsu, persuading him to open up his body more, and, in the next breath, they joined.

Ritsu panted as he felt himself being filled; the shove of Takano's cock shoving into him was overwhelming.

The hardened length rubbed every inch of his insides in a way that both ached rawly and made him tremble with wanton pleasure. The pace was rampant, almost too quick at first, but as his body slowly accustomed to his lover's urgent movements, he tipped his head back into the pillows, trilling out a blithe moan.

Takano bent his head, mercilessly attacking the exposed neck with his mouth, suckling the milky skin and only extending the melodious sounds expelling from the younger's lips.

Shaking hands latched onto his shoulders and then groped southward, stirring up his ardor with their fond patterns. Feeling Ritsu cling to him in such a way was immensely arousing; each and every was like a gift, a triumph over the younger's shy nature. With this much, he felt loved beyond bounds. Fingers pressed into his muscles, gently massaging them as they stretched in exertion.

Angling his trajectory, he buried deep into the boy's febrile passage, assuaging his own pleasure in the moment. The cinch of the narrow path was tantalizing, Ritsu's heat engulfing him on every side. It was, as always, too much to bear, but Takano kept up his rhythm, hammering in and striking each sensitive portion in turn.

"Oh...oh oh," a quiet voice murmured helplessly in Takano's ear, causing the elder to latch his lips to the younger's ear, worrying the flesh.

He was rewarded by an increasingly desperate cadence, said whispers growing more flooded with passion. He slammed in unforgivingly and they drowned into a loud call, the tight shell he was occupying shuddering and closing in narrowly on his length, squeezing it for dear life. Moving his head back to eye the pinkened face of his lover, he then buckled, spilling hot and full into Ritsu's ravished cavern.

Pressing a kiss to the sweaty cheek below him, the elder huskily informed, "That wasn't nearly enough. I want you again."

The statement elevated Onodera's pulse, verdant eyes creasing shut in a mixture of nerves and interest.

Truthfully, the boy wanted the same; he would never be able to say that in a million years, however. He envied greatly the other's more straightforward nature. It always had a way of thrilling him and dispelling any crippling neuroses he could get caught up in from time to time. Raising his shaded gaze, he meekly nodded in assent.

Lips wended slightly over, battling his own until he relented, parting both. A fervent tongue entered, thrusting raucously at the soft corners of his mouth, overpowering his senses with peaking pleasure; the taste of Takano overtaking everything. Ritsu tightened his arms around the other, feeding a sudden need to feel every inch of him more keenly.

Caught up as they were, neither payed any heed to the barely discernible knock at the door.

It went unnoticed as a second echoed and the visitor outside grew miffed at being ignored when, usually, the occupant of the bedroom would have hastened to answer any summons. Rin knew that Ritsu was supposed to be in there, visiting with the boy she and his father had arranged for him to marry. Neither had ever tried to go off anywhere without letting someone know where before, so truancy wasn't a concern.

Turning on her heel, Rin strode off, locating until she caught the attention of the nearest house servant.

This one had a key to her son's room that would grant her entrance; entrance to get to the bottom of whatever was going on that he wouldn't answer her at the door. It might be something inane, but she'd judge that when she had the facts. There was an important dinner at Ritsu's father's work that evening, and she needed to get a hold on the boy so that he could be fitted for the clothes he'd have to wear to the banquet later.

Curling her hand around the door knob, Rin opened the portal and quickly sashayed in through the living area of the suite, noting that neither boy was occupying the space. That left only one possibility.

She continued, her mind attuned to the inconvenience of it all, her having to goad the boy around to keep up with responsibilities despite his older age. One would think that a boy of his years wouldn't need such prodding by the mother, but, then again, Ritsu was hopeless. There would need to be a lot of growing up to do before the boy would ever be fit to take over the family empire.

However, as the gods had denied her the opportunity to beget any other children, they both would have to make do.

The bedroom at the end of the long hall emitted little noise, but it was still worth searching. Rin determinedly stalked that way, blue eyes trained ahead. When she opened on the quarters though, the elder was packed internally with bile at what she uncovered.

Stupefied speechless, the key she'd been gripping onto tensely dropped to the wooden floors, clattering loudly enough to draw both engaged sets of ears.

"Get your clothes on!" the woman shrieked once she recovered her faculties, quickly admonishing, "What do you think you're doing to my son?!"

"Mom? Mom, there isn't... please don't yell!" a red-faced Ritsu begged from the under the covers, clenching the blanket up against his chest.

He quickly turned his head, staring at Takano for aid. The elder for once seemed to have no answer; his golden stare was as stunned as the younger felt within. He watched as Senpai mechanically rose from the bed, pulling his clothes from the floor.

"I don't want to hear it! He needs to get dressed and get out!"

Blinders on to his mother's words, all Ritsu knew is in that moment he didn't want the other to leave. Forgetting for a moment the state he was in, he edged out from safety and latched onto Takano's arm, anchoring the elder teen from running off. This simple act of the heart however, provided what ended up being the final straw in the situation for the one who was controlling it.

When her eyes processed the sight, they widened, and the color filtered from her face, blanching it in a moment's time. Rin, in that space of time, made the connection she had somehow missed right up until today. Here, she was confronted with the truth, and could no longer ignore it. Looking at her child, at his appearance, everything was then made bluntly clear.

Ritsu had always been like her, slender, to the point where it had been a source of disappointment. She'd wanted a son after all, not a daughter in her image. There had been the hope that by the time he was an adult he'd own a more manful frame, but the change she was seeing in him now was not that, but from something decidedly more sinister. Thin as a rail he still was, and perhaps only an inch elevated in height from a recent growth spurt. But around the middle, his body differed, sloping into a small bump protruding outward.

Combine that with the antsy behavior on the young Takano's part, standing slightly in front of him, and the conclusion was... irrefutable.

Swallowing back her unseemly rage, Rin's voice was eerily flat as she instructed, "I want you out of my house soon, boy. Ritsu, get dressed. We are going to see your father after this."

**.**

**.**

**.**

_due date - March 17th, 2003_

**END CHAPTER.**


	18. Reflecting Pool

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I should note that as of this chapter, Nostalgia's story line has moved into the present year with the other characters'. I hope you all enjoy this chapter, and consider leaving a review after partaking of it. I sincerely appreciate the feedback.
> 
> Characters/Pairings: Haruhiko, Isaka, Misaki, Akihiko [Part One]; Kisa, Nostalgia [Part Two]

 

 

(August 10th, 2012)

* * *

"Yo, Haruhiko, what's going on with you?"

The late summer heat was stifling in his office in the city even without the advent of humidity adding into a terrible equation. Isaka scowled in his seat at the temperature, waving a fan he'd crafted from a folded-up business proposal at his face. The paper stirred the air feebly, providing only the lamest iota of coolness to combat the climes. The elder resigned himself, fluttering the makeshift piece as he listened to Haruhiko's inquiry.

It wasn't as if he had any alternative choice. Air conditioning in the building was still being repaired, and unlike his libidinous employees, the prospect made him more pissed off than it made him horny. All the president wished for was a long mental vacation, preferably in an icy lake with maximal shade somewhere.

"Hello Ryuuichirou, I had a personal matter I wished to ask you about. Something that has been troubling me lately, as I am not sure how to proceed."

The executive frowned. He could only hope that this wasn't going in the direction he predicted it would, as that would create a singularly sordid dilemma. But, the call could just as easily be about something else. He wouldn't know until the situation was brought to his attention, thus Isaka inwardly sighed and then responded, "Right, and what is that?"

Feeling sudden bile swirl in his throat, the imp jettisoned his attention for a moment to grab a drink of water, praying that it'd cure the unfavorable taste. ' _I sure as hell better not be knocked up again_!' he protested inwardly before turning back to the phone. If that were the case, Marukawa would burn to the ground. Figuratively speaking, naturally. ' _Fuck, I should know better than to let Kaoru get drunk and have his way with me; it's the only time the man loses all sense of responsibility._ '

"I cannot put my finger on it myself, so the disclaimer is that what I have to say will be vague. It is more of a feeling than anything else."

Attention was reclaimed. "Huh," Isaka vocalized, eyes narrowing. "That's odd, for you. Again, what's the suspicion?"

"I think there's something wrong with Misaki, but he hasn't confided to me if anything is awry. It has been like this for a while now. He will be distant to me, or lost in thought. When I speak to him, though, he acts normally, but it is when I don't that I notice this strange behavior. I cannot help but believe I'm over-analyzing things. So that is why I wondered if you had noticed anything, or, if you had perhaps seen some of what I have witnessed and had given it any thought."

Grimace etching firmly into his features, the man with the cobalt eyes tipped back in his seat, pondering the question. The problem was what to respond. There was the straight truth, and then there was his personal opinion on the matter, which was significantly less factual and very much emotional. If allowed the second route, Haruhiko was in for a reply Isaka wasn't sure the man wanted to hear, deep down inside.

Sure, the guy was asking these questions, but did anyone really want to hear an answer to the tune of "I think you're being completely duped"? Few would.

Still, that was what Ryuuichirou had on his mind. Takahashi was a kid whom he had really approved of in the beginning, someone who was fairly unassuming and a good partner for his friend's reserved demeanor. For the couple years leading up to this point, he had liked the kid immensely. Whether the kid felt the same toward him was less clear; Misaki had never seemed to get comfortable with the teasing Isaka enjoyed gracing him with. Not angry for being poked at, but more unnerved by the unusual displays of affection.

Right now though, any favor had evaporated in his opinion of the younger male. He didn't want it to be true, by some miracle, but Isaka couldn't help but believe that the prince's books weren't quite as fictitious as the earlier works the royal had authored about himself and Takahashi's brother. Never mind that that angle of things made this circus all the more bizarre.

He could say what he honestly thought, but was that the right thing to do? Who knew. If he was looking at it objectively, there was no actual 'proof' of any infidelity, so to claim there was and then have himself turn out as being wrong would only create more drama in the end.

Swinging his fan rather aggressively, Isaka put up a front and answered, "I haven't been spending much time with the kid, so I can't think of anything. Your brother is how he always is, work-wise. But I guess he wouldn't exactly advertise this sort of information to me, now would he? Tell me more about what you're paranoid about."

"I am not certain, but something about him doesn't feel quite right. At first I wondered if perhaps he was pregnant, because that would explain if he was acting a little strangely. But, he hasn't come to tell me anything as far as symptoms, so... I am at a loss. Worried as well," the man sighed with mental fatigue, continuing, "Misaki is shy, I do realize that, but usually he isn't _this_ reserved. He hasn't been that way since the days when we were first courting. You remember how he was then, Ryuuichirou."

"Well sure, I do, but...-" Isaka's voice paused in reply as he mulled over the opinion that was forming on the case his friend presented him with. It wasn't that he was a total cynic, yet, at the same time, the fact that Haruhiko was spooked enough to admit it to someone else sent up major red flags in his eyes. The guy was far from the intuitive type, so for him to glean so much worry from a "feeling" was truly out of character.

"Before, he was also very proactive with getting things together for the wedding, being that I didn't have as much free time to think about the details, but that's fallen away, as well. In a nutshell, I'm wondering if I could get your opinion. What should I do? Should I bring up my concerns with him?"

"I don't know what to do," Haruhiko repeated himself.

"Have you chatted up the kid to see if anything's gone weird lately? Observations are one thing, but you should communicate if you really want the whole story about his behavior. Not just talking to him about everyday stuff, that's too passive. Ask him flat out if he's been feeling all right because you've noticed he's acting oddly. Then hear his explanation and see what you think of that."

"No... I really have wanted this entire time to trust Misaki. That's why I haven't... said anything about events like these trash novels... he doesn't know about them, I am certain, and I'm not sure it would matter if he did. I believe in him to where I know it is my brother who is dreaming far too much and writing these things. I doubt any of this is more than his imagination getting out of hand."

"Haru-chan, keep in mind that I'm not saying this to point you in any direction, but... there has been another book released. Two days ago, I'm told, although I only heard of the thing this morning." Isaka could almost wince as he imparted the news, but hiding the news only would mean his friend would be denied the facts. The facts could end up meaning nothing, but for the potentiality they meant _something_ , he'd make sure the man was up to date.

"... I assume it's of the same content as the first."

"More or less. Different scenarios, and all that... but yeah. You weren't referenced in it this time, though. It featured only the two of them, in multiple ways."

A weighted silence extended itself from the other line, and the atmosphere behind it twisted at the executive's sometimes impish heart quite effectively. He couldn't be certain if how he was comporting himself was the correct way, but his main goal for the moment was to put the guy at ease. That meant reassuring him, to the best of Isaka's abilities (and willpower, given his conflicting opinion).

"Hey, you know... Don't worry yourself over something you don't have all the information on. That's only going to kill you in the end."

"That is difficult to do when I already feel as though I have lost him," Haruhiko remarked gravely.

"Well, you haven't," the other insisted fiercely, "so talk to him and get this figured out! That's the only way you'll know for sure if you have anything to fear."

With that final statement uttered, Isaka gracelessly returned the phone to its cradle, hanging up the line. He knew that Haruhiko wouldn't think anything of it; their conversations nearly always ended in such a manner - neither was too fixated on saying a long script of goodbyes. Once the device was squared away, he slumped back into the cushion of his chair, growling under his breath. This, in a word, sucked.

If it had been anyone else, he would've spouted off his honest qualms without a second thought. That he wasn't able to in this situation was goddamn irritating.

The facts were that the guy was Isaka's closest friend other than Asahina, which put him on a different level than someone else. Secondly, the issue at hand was major. The possible transgression of the person you wanted to spend your life with wasn't something you could muddle with. No, whatever came of all this nonsense would be Haruhiko's choice, and that had nothing to do with Isaka. He needed to keep whatever he advised on an unbiased level if he could. Doing otherwise would only stress the man out more, and that was the opposite of his desired outcome.

Pouting, the executive decided to look elsewhere for a distraction. If he wasn't thinking about this shit, then it could depart his brain for a while.

 _Knock, knock_.

A rapping from the other side of his private domain drew twinned cobalts to the mahogany portal lodged there. Business wasn't necessarily what he had in mind to clear the mental fog, but it couldn't be helped in the end. If it succeeded, it succeeded. Going through proposals hadn't vanquished him yet, so he could afford to pass over his attention to the chore.

Isaka tossed the fan casually over his shoulder to the depths of his potted plant and threw on a winsome face as the door meekly opened.

Asahina entered the office, shooting a skeptical look at his husband. After surveying the unprofessional feel of the room, he ultimately declined to say anything. Being together as long as they had, the elder had learned to pick his battles when it came to Ryuuichirou's work ethic, or, rather, the shameful lack thereof.

 

**. . . . .**

A nap was not something Misaki had experienced in many years, not since he was a little boy, and his mother would lay him down for one in the afternoons.

He could remember in those days being woken up by his nii-chan, who was usually just coming home from school at that hour. Takahiro would get him up and from that point on until dinner was served, he would spend time playing with Misaki, or teaching him how to read when he was very young indeed. In that era of innocence, naps had been something benign, a normal daily part of the routine for a small child. However, now that he was an adult, the spells were few and far in between, and partaken of in decidedly less benevolent situations.

His view upon rousing was not the friendly sight of his older brother getting him up to face the second half of the day, but of one side of an opulent bedroom, the walls a silky crème hue gilded with antiquated gold finishing. It was not an environment Misaki was accustomed to by any means. Far different from his humble beginnings, it was more likely to leave him in awe than to aid in his continued contentment.

There was the solid warmth of another body laying adjacent and his backside still pulsated tellingly with the rampant servicing it had so recently underwent. All in all, it was those small factors that made it impossible for him to paint a dishonest picture of where he was now that he'd woken up. Once more... of what seemed like countless times, Misaki had wound up in the embrace of the prince. It was in his palatial surroundings that Misaki had awoken to, not to the layout of the house that was supposed to be his home.

Closing his eyes for a moment in disgust for his lack of control, the brunette scrambled to turn over, bringing his sleeping partner into immediate view. Not even a foot from him lay the still dreaming prince. Usagi-san was out like a light, face placid and peaceful in the realms of slumber. Laying like that, he seemed veritably innocent, a handsome figure of no ill will. Misaki observed him from on his side, trying to get his brain working on what to do.

The evidence was that he had been intimate with Usagi-san on numerous occasions by now, and so clearly the man didn't mean nothing to him. If Haruhiko had never been in his life to complicate matters, the youth figured it would have been obvious what to do. If he had been in that situation, it would have felt natural to continue with what he was engaging in, to further get to know the prince as a person... a man.

The problem was that he, at this time, didn't know how to separate what was right and wrong.

Morally, he was committing bad acts. But, was there was reason why he was drawn to Akihiko, a love that would be better realized in the future? Misaki wasn't certain. At times he wondered if what he had heard once was true and that if you are stuck between two roads, you should pick the second because if it had caught your attention, the first path was never a very strong option.

Rustling lapped at the youth's ears then, and he swiveled his gaze, noticing a faint stir from the other human bundle sharing the bed. An arm bracing here, and then the body gingerly began the process of sitting up, and luminous eyes unveiled themselves, blinking harshly.

For a moment Takahashi was unwittingly captivated. The prince had a beautiful frame, entirely suiting of his birth. Long, lean torso of muscle and creamy pale skin, ruffled silver hair, and twin violets now staring back at him. An angular jaw tilted, as always, slightly in the air with confidence. The boy was forced to a flush, dropping his eyes as soon as the other's vision had latched onto his.

The elder eased over in the spacious bed, one elegant hand catching on the brunette's and affectionately stroking the back of it. Gazes re-encountered, and a smile cambered onto the silver hair's profile, eying the subtle machinations at work. Misaki's hand lay pliant against the mattress, but one finger trembled under the careful ministration, letting off a hint as to the inner result. Even the youth's breathing had notably altered, each small gasp that much more urgent as the air stirred.

The grin quirked in anticipation of how the other would take his next words. Speaking softly, Usami imparted, "I love you, Misaki."

Lips crushed to the boy's, ardently feeling out the sensitive skin with both mouth and hands. Fingers divided in the pursuit, one holding onto the younger at the waist, the other scrunched into the thick of the spiky cocoa mane.

The couple created a symphony together, jagged moans exchanging at the point where they were joined. Misaki slackened under the embrace, all thoughts dissipating into absolutely nothing. The taste of Usagi-san was something he was becoming addicted to, to a degree where it only fed his confusion. But here, right now, he'd let that go for a moment, and focus only on the sensations.

Only for a moment.

Misaki squirmed energetically when he could no longer sit still, which only seemed to encourage Usagi-san. Akihiko navigated his persistent lips to one exposed ear, biting down on the pinkened flesh and eliciting a harmonious note from the youth's parted lips. More fun would have to wait for later, but it was a pleasant enough waking up greeting in Usami's opinion.

"So cute," the elder laughed huskily, drawing back from the newly claimed area and fondly mussing chocolate brown hair in the retreat. It had been a while since he'd been in such a good humor; if he could only wake up like this every day, he'd be a man deeply contented with life.

"You, shut up!" Takahashi insisted, red coloring deepening with embarrassment.

He finagled his way out of the other's encasement, burrowing safely into the blankets to one side of the bed. For a few moments, the room was pleasantly quiet as it had been before either had awoken. He let his mind begin to wander aimlessly, settling into the silence with the hope it would sustain itself.

"That reminds me, Misaki... I have something that I wanted to give to you."

Akihiko procured a drawstring bag made of crimson velvet from one of the nightstand drawers, handing it over to the boy with an expectant smile lavishing on his handsome face. He waited for the other to open the small pouch, noticeably curious as to what the reaction would be. Misaki undid the strings cinching the gift shut, slightly apprehensive. When he noted the contents, he frowned in uncertainty.

"What is this, Usagi-san?" the brunette inquired, pulling out the gilded golden brooch that bore the royal insignia on its front. Why would the man give him a piece of jewelry, out of anything?

"This is a piece that is passed down through the years to those who are closely associated with my family. Put in simpler terms, if you wear this for me, Misaki, then everyone will know that you are mine."

"...If that's really what it is, I can't accept this, Usagi-san," Misaki answered, face wilting.

He placed the brooch back in its bag and attempted to hand it back to the elder, but with no cooperation. Akihiko stared back at him with disbelief, a frown having sprung up.

Misaki, deciding he had to make himself very clear, opened his mouth a second time, adding, "I can't belong to you when I already am with someone else. People would wonder about that, and I won't be able to tell them the truth."

"Of course you can. If my brother asks why I gave that to you, you can say it was a gift out of friendship."

A spark ignited then in the youth's dull emeralds, one of irritation. Finding his voice inexplicably, Misaki retorted snappily, "I actually wasn't talking about Haruhiko-san, Usagi-san, but I am not going to lie to him either about this thing. So kindly take it back."

"Then you are ready to tell him what you and I have?" Akihiko fished.

Intrinsically he knew that wasn't the case, but the words slipped out without his meaning to utter them. Normally he was in much better control of his speech, but in that moment the prince knew no bounds. The line of conversation worried him monstrously to be honest. Why would Misaki let himself be held so sweetly if the youth then turned around and denied having any feelings for Akihiko?

"Also, Misaki, I haven't heard yet... anything to do with what you think of me." That was what was truly bothering him after all. Usami didn't know what to think, or if anything he had ever said had permeated the younger man's brain and taken root. However his mannerisms might paint him, being with Misaki was something he was serious about.

Given the chef's reluctant nature, there were only two potential conclusions to Misaki's actions, which was all he had to interpret off of, being that nothing was ever stated between them. Either Misaki was incredibly shy about verbalizing any feelings - which didn't seem farfetched - or he was still unsure himself of where his heart lay. Whichever was the case, Akihiko was not above prodding the boy into making a decision.

"W-what?!" Misaki spluttered, taken aback by the other's sudden left turn in conversation. He scooted a little away from the man, gaping. "I can't tell you that!"

"Can't, or won't?"

Did Usagi-san think he even knew that answer himself?

The brunette avoided the query, feeling the awkwardness sinking in around him. He truly felt cornered. If he didn't say something, it would hurt the elder's feelings. If he said something and it wasn't what Akihiko wanted to hear, that would also slight the man. Misaki wanted him to be happy, but he also couldn't lie just to save the mood. He had far from come to a consensus on what the nature of his feelings toward the prince were, and he needed more time to mull it over. He knew that was irritating, he _knew_. But...

A loud creak resonated in the bedchamber and both sets of eyes quickly adjusted to the source. The prince's aged valet cautiously insinuated himself into the room, bowing deeply before a single word could be uttered.

"I apologize, your highness. I normally would not disturb you otherwise, but your honorable father is requesting your presence in his quarters. Immediately. It would appear urgent, thus..." the gentleman coughed, and Misaki nervously peeked at the prince from the side. The elder was clearly tempestuous. His features, already distorted from the frustration of their tiff, shone through with further irritation. His lips had formed a thin line on his face, defiant.

"Can this not wait even an hour?" he murmured caustically.

"His majesty requested that you come at once. He instructed me to see that you would."

Inexplicably, it was the distraction the brunette hadn't even known he'd wished for. A chance for him to have the time he really needed to think about everything, alone, without any external pressures. He just needed to reach out and take it.

Gathering a sheet to act as his cover, he hopped out of bed, avoiding either of the other males' stares. It was time for him to leave.

Takahashi located and quietly shuffled on the clothes he had worn there, and, as the shirt slipped over his head, he frowned. Tugging on the hem, Misaki wasn't sure if his imagination running wild, or him being hypersensitive, or none of the above, but it felt a bit tighter than he normally wore things.

Assuring himself it was foolish to get worked up over such thoughts now, he finished composing himself and got ready to depart.

 

**. . . . .**

_'Sick, again_.' Misaki put his head in his hands, balancing back on his knees. Cradling his face, he blocked out the harsh glow of the bathroom lighting and saw only a peaceful dark from behind his palms. He moaned pitiably. It had taken a while to get home from the palace, but as soon as he had returned, a violent wave of illness had shot right through him, and he'd ended up here, bent face first over the toilet.

Something was wrong, _no_ , everything was wrong right now. If he forced himself to take a good, hard look at his life, in every sector he was failing. The worst part is he knew, even in the moment he made the bad decisions that they were bad, and he still made them. It was helpless, and frightening for him to be so out of control of his own being.

Takahashi didn't know how he could begin to dig himself out of the hole he currently festered in. Was there a way to do it and come out unscathed? It didn't seem like there would be.

Misaki flushed, mind working rapid pace as if to weigh his options.

Soon, he was going to have to face his fears and own up to the acts that he had committed. If the guilt of knowing that he'd inflict a terrible blow to Haruhiko-san by telling him wasn't overriding his usual sensibilities, he would have confessed by now. Though, what he had heard about lies was slowly turning out to be true; once you started down that path, it snowballed quickly, as if the universe was punishing a person for not being honest from the beginning.

Despite that, the truth would have to come out, one way or the other. He needed to be the one to do that.

And, now, there was this.

Just now had only seemed to confirm the suspicion that the youth had been wrestling with for a while. He didn't want to believe something that would further complexify the situation, but... there was something off, and not just with his decision making faculties. But with his entire body.

Misaki had always been the type to be keenly aware of even minute changes: a cold coming on, any ache or pain, or loss of energy. It was that part of him that set off all the warning bells; things were changing inside of him and save for some rare malady, the answer could only be one. Something he'd desired once, but now, filled him with a deep sadness to consider... he was believing more and more that he was very likely pregnant.

All he could do was hope that he was wrong. It was horrible timing otherwise, and, even worse, he couldn't be certain of the father. That was something that hadn't crossed his mind the first time he had transgressed, but it really should have been. Misaki couldn't think of any excuse other than he was being stupid, but, it wasn't like he didn't know that much already. He'd somehow wound up in the archetypical position for his deeds; the fact that it was cliché didn't make him feel any better.

His head hurt, contemplating everything. The young man was stuck on the penultimate decision; which relationship to end.

True, he had gotten into a bit of an argument with Usagi-san earlier, but looking back on the event, Misaki had gleaned the true source of the annoyance. Not the man, but more accurately, anger at himself for acting out. The prince had been nothing but kind toward him and he couldn't exactly berate the royal for wanting to hear Misaki's feelings. It was a human response, and, apart from how their relations had begun, their bond was comfortable; not lacking for anything.

And, well, his relationship with Haruhiko-san... before this insanity, it had been the happiest he'd been in his life.

 

**. . . . .**

Several minutes later, the youth settled down on the sofa in the living room with a steaming cup of tea. He sipped the beverage slowly, willing the slightly bitter taste to counteract some of the poison building inside him. The problem, he was just so tired of everything to think logically, which only had the effect of setting him up for further agony.

There were two men in his life who claimed to love him, and Takahashi believed both. When it came down to it, _he_ was the problem. Perhaps the third option in the matter would be to remove himself from each brother; let them find someone a little more decisive, and a little better at seeing only them when it came to love.

"Good evening... I'm home."

Misaki jumped in his perch atop the cushioned lounge, nearly upsetting the cup so perilously placed on the edge of the coffee table. A head turned cautiously at the familiar voice, and he scrambled to compose his features. Offering up an even tone, Misaki responded, "Welcome home. You're through with work, Haruhiko-san? I thought that it was a really busy time right now, with the thing and... everything," he trailed off awkwardly, willing his heart rate to quell.

"Was I supposed to arrive later despite finishing early?... No, it truly is that sort of a time, but today was less demanding than the rest. I am sorry though, I ate with my clients and not at home."

"That's fine." Misaki reached for his tea, the vessel quivering marginally as he brought it to his lips for a distraction. While he partook, the elder crossed from the doorway and claimed a seat next to the boy on the couch. Misaki wondered what the man was thinking; Haruhiko's features were always nigh unreadable, except in times where a particular emotion struck a strong chord within him. So far, he believed he'd kept under the elder's radar well enough.

Though, that questionable triumph did little to ease his own racing thoughts. The brunette replaced the cup and then chanced a true look at Usami, seemingly waiting for the other to begin a conversation. That was where this was going, wasn't it?

Unbeknownst to the other, Haruhiko was experiencing a similar state of nerves, given his purpose. After talking with Isaka earlier in the day, and dwelling on the words throughout his work hours, he had come to the decision to take action. To go ahead and ask Misaki if something was amiss, and to get the truth directly from his intended's mouth as to his odd behavior as of late.

Calmly, he examined his fiancé's gaze, which, rather than meeting his own, was fixed a modicum lower, shyly appraising the level of his mouth. Haruhiko placed his hand under Misaki's chin, tilting it upward so that he could look him on properly.

"Misaki?" the elder questioned, voice unsure, quiet. There was a cast to the boy's bearing that he wasn't able to understand; what mood was laced in that reticent stare? "Are you all right?"

Appearing strangely strained, the younger leaned forward, uncharacteristically slipping out from the light hold Haruhiko had on his head.

Misaki wrapped both arms firmly around the man's chest, head nestling in at the base of his neck. He inhaled deeply, breathing in the mild but familiar scent of the elder, taking that comfort in it that he so craved. Slightly dazed by the warmth of the other's body, he inexplicably continued to rest there a moment in silence.

With all of the horrible things that he was letting himself do, he no longer felt so connected to Haruhiko any more, and that was a bond that he selfishly had begun to miss. Misaki was aware that his personality had to be twisted, wanting to be loved by someone he was secretly doing wrong.

He... couldn't help this, though. There was a powerful feeling that existed in this first relationship of his, and he didn't know how to give it up. Even if he knew that he should, if only to leave before the elder found out what he'd done behind his back.

"Misaki, I am troubled... are you feeling unwell, or is there something else?" he began, "Tonight, you are-"

A hot flush sprang up on the smaller's face as the statement was put to him. Intrinsically he knew that the man didn't _know_ , but if Usami was beginning to suspect that something was awry, well, that was-

Misaki pulled away from his hiding spot, determining on changing the mood and putting to rest any fears. It was dishonest in the worst way, but he didn't want Haruhiko to know what the truth really was, that he had done things with the elder's own brother... **no** , that was something he couldn't ever find out about.

"Haruhiko-san," he replied, speaking the name as its own form of response. It stopped whatever statement that the elder had been crafting in its tracks.

Not skipping a beat, Misaki placed a hand on either side of the man's face. He kissed him, lips melding to Haruhiko's strongly in the hopes that everything would wash away without further investigation. It was both for that motive, and half for his own growing desire that, only moments later, he found the strength to edge the other into a laying position on the sofa.

 

* * *

**. . . Nostalgia . . .**

(May 27th, 2012)

* * *

At times, he didn't even mind working in this place. Every now and then a certain camaraderie could be felt between himself and his co-workers that Ritsu had never experienced before. He never really had any close friends growing up, after all, so work "friends" were as near to the term as he came. The job itself wasn't horrible, apart from dealing with pesky authors in crunch times.

It may not have been the department he would have preferred, but he could do what he was asked to do at least moderately well, and he was improving all the time with this new found medium. Between those positives and the cast of characters who populated his office, being a shoujo manga editor was tolerable. That was what he told himself anyway.

Today though, today... that was all a mirage, a fallacy. The editing floor had crumbled into the depths of hell at the advent of the similarly named week, and it was as if the entire zone was cursed so that everything that had to do with their projects went wrong. The stress was mounting spectacularly as the clock ticked on into the later afternoon, and Ritsu was about at his mental limit with the calamities that had befallen him so far this shift.

Beginning from the bottom when he'd raced into work late due to an incident on the train that delayed him at least twenty minutes, all the way to the top when his tardiest artist wouldn't return his phone calls, he'd had enough.

While it was appreciable that his misfortunes weren't so vastly spread out so that something bad happened to him every calendar day, it _would_ be even more kind if they could all refrain from dog-piling on him in one twenty-four-hour period.

It kind of got him to grumbling about his luck; normal people didn't have it as hard as him, Ritsu was sure, and so he bleakly wondered what awful act he must have committed in a past life to garner such a string of tribulations. And that was speaking nothing of _other_ factors in the area who _constantly_ reminded him of how he was barely treading water on a difficult stint like this.

The hands down, worst fate of all for Onodera was the mere identity of his supervisor. It didn't feel like such a small world, but then again, it could just be his bad luck.

At age eighteen, he had left his family home after two odd years of barely communicating with his parents. There were no words for what they had done to him at that tenderer age, and from the time they had broken him up until he could leave, he refused to make any concessions for them.

Once he became a legal adult, Ritsu had been determined never to rely on anyone ever again because he'd been burned that way before, by his parents, and also by his ex, who had abandoned him to his parent's anger and never dared to show his face around again.

Senpai had been out of his life from that day on, and Ritsu had had to wonder if the older boy had only been waiting for the right opportunity to leave him. Had all the acts of kindness merely been out of duty, or to toy with his emotions? That was kind of how it had felt when Ritsu reflected on all that lay between them.

He didn't want to be that vulnerable to anyone.

Cutting his parents off had meant that Ritsu had had to make his own way in the world, and slowly but surely he did so. The irony was that, in the end, his mother's habit of harping on about her pedigree had been his saving grace.

Onodera Rin had a close connection to one of the more eminent families in the realm, being the great-great granddaughter of the honored general, Yoshino Yuudai, through her mother's side of the family. It transpired that for his ancestor's services during his military career, the throne had at that time created a sort of stipend for all of his future descendants.

The money, however, had always lain unused up until then; all of the famed man's descendants had had money of their own, and no reason to greedily accept more. Ritsu, on the other hand, though he didn't like the principle of it too much, had need of that, if only to support himself until he could do it on his own terms. With that money, and some hard work, he had been able to keep an apartment in the capitol, and to incrementally work through university, taking a few classes at a time.

He'd finished at age twenty-four, a bit later than a peer would have, but at least he had succeeded at all, and had become qualified to work in the field he had always dreamed of basing his career in, editing literature. Or so had been the plan.

Two months before his next birthday, Ritsu had secured a job offer at Marukawa, a well-respected company, and, more importantly, not his father's publishing house. Everything had appeared to finally be turning in his favor, and he'd gone to work that first day ready to hope for some long-awaited happiness. That hope had been crushed soon enough, just like it always seemed to.

First and foremost, when he had met with a representative from the human resources department, he had been told that yes, he was now employed, but that instead of in the literature division, he was going to be shipped off to the bizarre and unfamiliar world of shoujo manga.

Even at that junction, Ritsu had felt like he could overcome the challenge. He would simply do the best he could, and wait an appropriate amount of time before asking for a transfer to his desired department. That was the reasonable way of going about the setback. Yes, it all would have been neat and tidy if not for what had happened next.

When he had gone up to begin his new position, he had been introduced to the people he would be working alongside, as well as his immediate supervisor. Otherwise known as the same tall, dark-haired phantom of his past... his one-time fiancé. Takano Masamune. The absolute one person Ritsu had hoped never to run into, even if he knew that was probably an impossible wish. That was the card that life drew him on his first day at Marukawa.

There was no pretending he didn't recognize the man, even if Takano had changed a little in the ten years they hadn't met. And the man certainly remembered him.

With their very first greeting, that nostalgic golden gaze had seized on him, irises painted not with the guilt or at least shame that Ritsu felt should have been there after what Takano had done to him, but with emotions that were utterly bewildering to him. Relief, perhaps, but definitely a yearning. It burned visibly in the stare regarding him throughout the first shift. For Ritsu though, he had been filled only with foreboding.

The first day had not assuaged any of his worries. By the end, it became incredibly clear what the elder's intentions were regarding what lay between them.

The shift itself hadn't been the problem. Ritsu had been optimistic with how smoothly it had progressed. Smooth being relative as, after all, he had no experience with manga and had had to learn from scratch, cutting, copying, and pasting until it began to feel like he'd been doing it for years. No, that had gone about as well as it could be expected to, so Onodera had been proud of his perseverance in the matter. It was only at the end of the day that his prospects took a turn for the worse.

It began when he attempted to stay after hours to read through a few of the department's previous volumes in a heedful attempt to teach himself the way of the genre. Some manner of time had passed in peaceful silence, with only the flicker of a desktop lamp and the sweet bruit of turning a page to set the milieu. Everyone had gone home at the regular time and Ritsu had assumed he had the run of Emerald to himself.

This, fatefully, wasn't the truth.

He did, for a while, but that was only due to his supervisor being locked into a meeting that ran late into the evening concerning the acquisition of a new artist for their ranks. Once that ran out, Takano had returned, leading to a few moments of surprise when the two men discovered they weren't as alone as they'd previously believed. Even then, the situation hadn't soured immediately. The chief had hunkered at his own desk for a spell, putting to rest a few final work demons before he allowed himself to be done for the day, officially.

That was his final layer of protection however. Ritsu could vividly recall how the confrontation had flourished from that point on.

The rookie editor had been dissecting the anatomy of a build-up scene at the time, absorbing the ebb and flow of emotions as the plot cascaded toward its zenith.

The heroine stealing weary glances at the horizon, waiting for the silhouette of her love interest to appear trudging down the boulevard as the sun dipped lower and lower in the sky. So much in that collection of frames had hinged on the glances themselves - where she happened to look, the cast of her eyes when she looked. A reader could tell without words what thought had been echoing through the heroine's eyes, and so the moments had progressed, void of dialogue and successfully at that. Ritsu was weighing the number of squares to calculate what was an adequate amount when a presence had generated nearby, dropping into a chair at his side.

Onodera couldn't help shrinking into himself despite promising himself he wouldn't show these weak sorts of feelings. It was a unpolished response.

Takano and he hadn't at that time spoken that much since he'd began working, and never about anything personal. He'd dreaded the junction where that happy balance would topple. All the same, he knew it would happen. If Takano had ignored him in that manner it would have only solidified the idea that, when they were teenagers, their bond had been the grandest charade Ritsu had ever lived through.

"Ritsu."

The syllables of his name, just his name, had been spoken with a gruff urgency that, despite his previous fear, had sent a different sort of anticipation tearing mercilessly through his sensory.

A hand dropped onto his shoulder then, and Onodera had been pulled into an awkward yet strong embrace, his body coming to be cradled against Masamune's side, full contact hindered somewhat in the seated position they lingered in. The brunette's heart had been thumping against the walls of his chest relentlessly, forcing his breaths more labored from his throat. For a moment... just a moment... his mind had stood blank enough to term it heaven.

That was before reality had dawned.

He wasn't too proud to remember that tears had sprung to his eyes, or that he'd wrenched himself free by shoving the other male back in his own chair. It wasn't adult, although it was perfectly human.

That night had been par for the course up until now. Countless more arguments, and countless more confusing embraces.

...

Right now, what he really desired was a quiet moment of solitude, both to recoup his sanity and perhaps gather enough steel to make it until the end of the day.

Add in some more for the commute home (which he would be sharing with a certain critical factor of his stress) and a little luck that he would actually sleep in his own apartment, ALONE, for once. To Ritsu's resentment, that dream was becoming a rarity, and he could not state the reason for such. That just seemed to be the going thing, these days. Various situations would combine with Takano's will to be close to him, and Ritsu would find himself succumbing to the man whether he thought it a wise idea or not.

...At some points, Ritsu entertained the fallacy that he could still... love... him. Clearly, that was incorrect, as well as a HORRIBLE notion, but the thought did cross Ritsu's mind, mostly in the spaces where they would languish in each other's embrace. His explanation for having such illicit ideas was that his mind was weak in those passionate moments, and thus it wasn't out of the range of possibilities that their history would set the hurdle lower for him to fall for Masamune's charms.

With those troubling recollections, and his goal of peace in mind, Ritsu escaped to the nearest washroom, hoping to decompress if even by one factor.

The close quarters were sterile and brightly lit, the bland décor oddly comforting. He sidled over slowly to the nearest counter, slumping on it heavily and letting out a sigh. Eying his wan reflection in the mirror, Ritsu was even further disconcerted. If he were being honest, it was more than just work that he was mired in today. There were certain other problems that had recently bubbled to the surface.

Perhaps it had been coming all along, but just a few days ago, at the close of one of those confusing late nights, Takano had sprung something on him.

He wanted them to be together again, properly. To pick off where they had started, although the word the man had used was "dating" rather than engaged, as they had been when they were younger. It wasn't quite an ultimatum, as he'd set no time frame, but he'd made his desire known, and that alone had shocked the brunette to the core. Clearly they were doing things, but a real relationship, again? He... he couldn't.

Shoving the vexatious thoughts swiftly from his brain, Ritsu scowled and reached for the nearest sink handle. Willing himself to splash some water on his face and then get back to work, to distract himself with more meaningful tasks. But, as was seemingly the trend today, luck was not on his side. When he cranked the handle on, instead of the normal, modest stream pointing downward from the tap, a typhoon was unleashed.

Icy water sprayed out in a surge, coating his clothes and face all down the front and soaking them quickly through. It happened in an instant, and effectively doused him before his better instincts kicked in, frantically working to cut off the faucet's supply. Breathing heavily, he eliminated the defective nuisance and retreated, taking several cautionary steps back while his mind still reeled from the rapid reality check.

' _Seriously?!_ ' Ritsu cursed inwardly, chagrined at his ill fortune. What was he going to do? It wasn't as if this was the type of job one brought a change of clothes to! It was the last thing he needed to happen today; he was already feeling trodden-down as it were.

The only solution he could conceive of would be to attempt drying his shirt under the hand dryer. Whether it would actually get it dry was another story.

' _It's almost end of shift. Almost time to leave_ ,' he contented himself, repeating that as a mantra to keep calm as he put his plan in motion, whisking off the long-sleeved garment and holding it under the obliging stream of hot air from the machine.

Within a few minutes, he'd near zoned out entirely with the numb phrases rolling around in his mind.

"Ricchan, you realize that you're still at work, right? This isn't the time to be going _topless_!"

At the familiar voice questioning him, Ritsu looked back over his shoulder, noting the presence of his co-worker, who was clamoring next to one of the other sinks in the room, a cheeky grin plastered across his face. Irritated by the comment, he couldn't help that he sounded a little acerbic when he responded to the utterance, explaining, "My shirt got wet, so I needed to take it off to dry it, Kisa-san; please don't make weird conclusions."

"Ohhh, did the one at the end get you? I almost got sprayed last week, but I was able to move out of its attack path in time."

Glancing back, slightly incredulous, Ritsu grumbled, "I don't even know how someone could get out of the way in time. It just suddenly became a torrent of water, and there I was." He shook his shirt in his hands, testing it. The material wasn't one-hundred percent dry, but, at the same time, it was probably as good as he was going to get, using this inferior method. Air drying would have to account for the rest; he needed to get back on the floor soon and work.

Turning around and slipping the shirt back over his head, he began to speak again, wanting to ask a brief question of Kisa for his drama CD production before going back, but, before Ritsu could get his garment more than halfway down his chest, he was interrupted.

"What's this from, Ricchan? Did you have surgery a while back or something?"

Ritsu's thoughts began to race even more rampant, his mouth drying up tangibly even as he scrambled for some sort of comeback to ply his co-worker with. He immediately suspected what Kisa was asking about, even without reading the clue of the man pointing to it. "It" was a horizontal scar laying low on his belly in the shape of a curved line, faded from age and thus light in color.

It was not something Ritsu was game to explain.

"N-None of your business!" he immaturely settled upon as an answer.

"I have to get back to work. Excuse me!" Face locking in a determined expression, he shot the raven hair one last glance before he fixed his shirt, turned on his heel and stomped out the bathroom door, leaving a slightly whip-lashed Kisa behind to wonder what had really gone on in the younger man's head then.

Kisa leaned against the counter nearby, pondering the whole of it seriously for a moment.

The facts were that he _felt_ he had an idea of what that mark was from, but it could just as easily be from a more innocuous medical procedure, such as an appendectomy or some other sort of necessary surgery. Kisa wasn't a doctor, nor did he know any doctors, so he couldn't be fully certain of his opinion.

Ricchan had come off a little defensive sounding, but that wasn't that unusual, given what Kisa had experienced of the rookie's personality thus far. Ritsu was a prickly sort of individual, and not really one for blabbing on about anything that wasn't one-hundred percent work-related to anyone in the office. Kisa didn't know why that was, but the world had all sorts of folks in it, so he pretty much didn't care one way or the other if that was the mask Ritsu liked to wear professionally.

When it came down to what he thought was going on, well, the guess derived back to many years ago, when Kisa had been younger than even his tsundere seatmate was now, newly independent of his childhood home, and looking to start life as an adult.

With the close of his minority came freedom. Now what Kisa had done with his freedom wasn't exactly what he would recommend for others, but it also wasn't something he could, or entirely would change now. Everything happens for a reason, right? His wayward path had eventually led to a better one in the form of one unnamed husband who currently occupied whatever free time he might stumble upon.

With that freedom though, the stark reality was that he had slept around quite a bit. He hadn't been doing it without caution though, and that's where the guess now came into play.

Back then, Kisa had already known that even though he liked kids, he was scared of having - and not convinced that he would ever want to have - one himself. Given his proclivities, he was putting himself at danger of facing his fears whether he desired to or not. So, he had done his research on the best way to keep himself out of the danger zone, and luckily at that time medicine had reached the point in discovery that allowed him to have his cake and eat it too.

There was a procedure available that offered a more reliable form of birth control in blocking off the passage to the reproductive organ. Even if a person didn't double up by using condoms, the risk of pregnancy was almost nothing, given sperm could not reach anywhere near enough to fertilize. Another benefit was that it didn't require too much recovery time, compared to the other option of removing the andropelvic organ completely.

It was those reasons that interested Kisa and, besides, he hadn't wanted to go the full gamut and remove a piece of his insides. That had seemed a little too drastic, and, needless, considering this other surgery would do the trick just as well.

So, a young and single him had undergone that procedure, and, for the day that he did have to stay at the hospital, the schedulers had stuck him in the part of the place where people were coming in to have children, have ultrasounds done during pregnancy, test for infertility, etcetera. Thus, as he had been taking it easy, Kisa had noticed quite a few people in varying stages of reproduction.

Frankly, who Ricchan reminded him of was his recovery room partner, a young father who had given birth via a-section. The scars were nearly identical.

If it hadn't been for the other time, Kisa might have thrown away this train of thought entirely, thinking that because it had been years and years since that'd happened, his recollections might be deceiving him.

However, just a few months ago, when Kisa's daughters had come into the world, he had seen a few more people who'd had the same procedure. While Yukina had birthed the girls at home, their obstetrician had insisted on the couple bringing the twins into the hospital for a full check up the next day, and that was when Kisa had been exposed to the other examples lodged clearly in his mind.

Their scars too, resembled Ricchan's. He had a hard time believing that he was so off the mark in thinking that the brunette had undergone that surgery.

And yet Kisa couldn't shake his memory that, out of all the months they had worked next to each other, Ricchan had never _once_ indicated that he'd ever had a child.

 

**. . . . .**

"It _is a mistake. I don't know what that charlatan said to coerce you into that position, but you should have been stronger, Ritsu. Aren't you my son?_ "

_Rin's heels clicked brutally against the marble as she pulled her teenaged boy from the elevator car, manhandling him down the hallway of a familiar hospital. Her husband Hyouta was well in tow, a few distant paces behind them, brimming with an equal yet differently manifested ire. Both parents were in a state of outrage at recent events, and this trip seemed the end point of that emotion; Ritsu's punishment, as it were._

_The youth was frightened, hiccuping sobs that he couldn't even stem anymore, knowing intrinsically that whatever was about to happen was going to be catastrophic._

 

**. . . . .**

Ritsu shivered, pulling the sweater draped over the back of his chair off its perch and over his shoulders. For a day in a month that was broaching on summer, the weather sure was giving him the chills. It didn't help, of course, that he'd so recently been doused with the sink's backlash. His clever idea to dry his shirt had succeeded only partially, the moderately aerated fabric clinging snug to his skin and lowering his temperature to a further degree. ' _It's almost quitting time_ ,' he reassured himself as he bundled up the best he could. And then he could head home.

The naif editor hunched uncaringly over the top of his desk. He was still waiting on that confirmation. If Nakahara-sensei could only just pare down the remaining pages to seven, that would be sufficient enough progress to get them back on track for publishing at the end of this week. She lived around two hundred miles out of the capitol though, nearer to the ocean, and so with her, Ritsu couldn't exactly be over her shoulder to encourage in person.

Technology was their link.

All in all though, he now felt like he was entering the eye of the Hell Week storm, a certain precarious calm descending as he took stock and realized that there was light at the end of the month's tunnel. Actually, if he got down to the facts of the situation, his authors had all behaved themselves for the most part. Almost too well, when compared to the first few drastic cycles of his employment. Whether it was blind luck, or that he had finally managed to get the hang of the process, Ritsu didn't care. He was just glad things were how they were.

- _Briiing!-Briiing!-Briiing!-_

Ritsu bolted up on instinct, hand poised and outstretched to capture the tabletop phone waiting in front of him. To his dazed surprise, however, the device wasn't the one intervening in the quiet period of his later work day.

Tilting his head in mild confusion, he glimpsed Kisa beside him fiddling with the insistent mobile lodged in his jeans pocket, trying to draw it out before the buzzing chorus subsided.

Bored and without any other entertainment, the brunette continued to survey the ongoing drama, watching as his co-worker flipped said phone open to read the text that had just come through.

Curiously, a sudden blush colored the other's face, his reaction to the message seemingly indignant although a quaint smile curved at his lips, saying otherwise. Kisa stared at the screen for a few moments, and then unexpectedly swiveled in his seat, angling both himself and the phone toward Ritsu.

"Just look at this, Ricchan. Aren't they getting so big? Isn't it crazy how much babies grow? I feel like whenever I go home, they've shot up a foot!" the man chirped animatedly, waving the slender phone in Ritsu's face. Eventually he thought better of the frenzied motion though, holding the phone still so that the younger could peer at the picture filling the screen. Underneath that photo, he could also spot the writing that surely had brought on the earlier color, a quick missive intoning, 'We can't wait to see you at home! -Us.'

Ritsu's heart did a funny jump in his chest as he glanced the tableau over. Kisa's twin daughters were laying on what looked like a carpeted floor, beholding the camera in unison with duplicate smiles on their porcelain faces. The girls were so tiny to him, whatever Kisa was going on about, as if they'd only just been born the other day. He stared intently, not really sure what he could say in response. Truthfully, looking at that, it kind of-

Hur-

"Well?" the raven-hair beckoned expectantly. "Three months old, but already that grown. They're gonna get tall, don't you think? In spite of me, I mean."

"Your... your daughters really are beautiful, Kisa-san," Ritsu eked out with some effort, garnishing that reply with his most earnest look. "I'm sure they'll grow up that way, too."

This time he was met not with the other's normal cheerfulness, but an oddly weighted stare. "Ricchan, if I-" Kisa began to speak, but summarily was cut off by the blaring of the true office phone separating their desks.

Ready for the distraction, Ritsu went right for it, snatching up the receiver with carefully-controlled precision, holding it up to his ear as he gave the obligatory professional greeting.

"Ah, Nakahara-sensei, I'm so glad to hear from you-!"

 

**. . . . .**

It was early evening, and the weather sported a perfect blend of temperature, the air neutral on Onodera's face as he strolled along the sidewalk, charting the usual path back to his living quarters.

Some of his birth might have called a car for transport, but, being a supremely dishonorable son, he could afford no such luxuries. Not ever, unless he were to marry. Ritsu knew enough to know that event would never exist in the cards for him. The one time he had come close was enough of a cautionary tale to put him off the idea for life.

And if history didn't do the trick, there was one rather alarming piece of it who could substitute as the final straw.

The man was unprofessional, above all, Onodera had convinced himself, stalking after a subordinate as he was prone to do after work. It was bad enough that their quarters had ended so close to each other within the palace walls; couldn't that be enough ill kismet? Why did he have to actually spend time with Takano outside of work, as if their relationship transcended that of employer and employee?

"Would you stop running and wait up?" an irritated baritone voice called from behind his mark on the path, a small growl laced into the emission.

Ritsu continued on his way, eyes narrowing with personal frustration as the man vigilantly tried to flag him down. Yes, he was running, but for a good reason, obviously. One that absolutely didn't involve him stopping any time soon.

The two males were both heading toward the train depot that would return them to the inner sanctum of the capitol. Marukawa was located outside of the more ritzy area, and in a normal business district of the commoner's city. The train itself went between the two areas, traveling underground when passing through the border separating them.

Only one line transcended the distance, so Onodera knew that unless he had some incredible timing when arriving to the station, he was going to be forced to board the transport with his senior. That was manageable. He just didn't want to be cornered before then. On the train there were witnesses. Here, on a side street, he was guaranteed no such buffer. The problem was, he was already wearying, and he didn't know that he could maintain the pace he had been rushing at up until now.

"Let me speak to you," the voice called again, pleading. "At least listen to what I have to say."

"No thank you!" Ritsu blurted out, shooting down the idea for the umpteenth time.

As soon as work had finished for the day, this entire shenanigan had commenced. Their fellow co-workers had filtered out at various times, returning home ahead of both he and Takano. Ritsu himself had stayed later than he'd planned after getting ahead on the designs for a future promotional fair. That particular document he had began for less honest reasons than being a workaholic.

After his earlier conversation with Kisa, the brunette hadn't exactly been up to continuing it. He sensed that his elder had somehow grasped onto a truth he'd hidden. One he didn't want to talk about any more than he wanted to talk to Takano about the subject. Kisa-san had attempted on multiple occasions to subtly open up the topic, so Onodera had thrown himself into the new task to avoid further questioning. And since he'd began it, he had wanted to finish it before going home.

Yet even when he was ready to leave, he still wasn't safe from the fifth degree. Takano was persistent as always with trying to make him acquiesce to rekindling their relationship. It had been harrowing, but easy enough to keep the man at bay until now. With the incident earlier, though, Ritsu would be the first person to admit he was feeling vulnerable.

"Fine, if you won't stop, I'll just tell you then."

It wasn't really surprising to the younger that his steps had begun to slow, tiring of keeping up the facade. At least for tonight. His eyes closed, feeling an emotion he couldn't put a name to. His mental blockade receded, attention focused less on making it to the station, and more so on Masamune's exposition behind him.

"Ten years may have passed, but I still want you, Onodera. I never stopped in the time you were taken from me, even though I thought I would never see you... or our baby again. I missed both of you so much that it nearly _killed_ me a couple of times."

Sheer cold ricocheted up the brunette's spine at the confession, seizing up his muscles and causing him to come to a screeching halt mid-stride on the sidewalk.

Nearby, the dampened hum of voices and machinery from the nearby construction lot provided an alien background, one that forced him to focus entirely on Masamune's words toward him. Ritsu turned a half-pivot, staring blankly at the elder from the vantage. He wasn't confident he believed in those words yet or not, but that didn't stop him from experiencing their strength of sound. Imagining the scenario if indeed it were true, Ritsu compared with his own reactions to the separation.

Depression was not an unfamiliar friend, but in those early days his more constant companion had been indignation. Mainly with himself.

At just under sixteen, he'd been tugged into the harsh world young, and it wasn't so smooth an entrance.

All at the same time he had lost both any closeness to his parents, as well as what he had considered to be his entire future prospects - marrying and having a family with Senpai. He had been overwhelmed with no longer knowing what he'd do in the coming years, or how he would ever recover from what had been lost.

By Takano he had felt betrayed. After the day when their parents had effectively ended the engagement, they had never seen each other again. Ritsu had hoped, for months and months, but Senpai had never come back.

Not even on the day when he'd needed him the most.

"I-I am not something to be _wanted_ ," Ritsu returned quaveringly. "Just because our parents tried to put us together once doesn't mean that we fit. I-I don't need anything like that, and certainly not with you!" There, he had managed to say it. For a moment the brunette even began to feel relief at his verbal conquest, that is, until the mood hit a flip-switch, and the argument dissolved entirely.

The raven grimaced, hefting a sigh from his vantage. The person he was in love with was this skittish creature, and he was probably to blame for turning Onodera into the personality he was today. When his junior had been younger, he was quite different. Trusting, in one major example. It was frustrating as much as it was gut-wrenching that the man refused to listen to him, to accept Takano back into his life. Whether he deserved that privilege or not, Masamune was determined on going to his grave in the pursuit of it. For him, there wasn't much else _to_ live for apart from his long-ago lover.

Frankly, he was probably just as screwed up by their history as Ritsu was. Didn't mean that was a cause for avoiding him, though.

"I don't see you as a 'thing,'" he clarified, monitoring his tone to keep it inoffensive, "And if you'd think back, it wasn't our parents who set us up. I already knew I wanted to be with you before I knew that I was arranged to marry you. ...They tried to do what they did, and we were way too young. All I'm asking you is for a second chance now. I want to do everything the right way; not rush it."

Ritsu flushed, slumping heavily against the fencing of the construction site because it was there, and he needed something to lean on in that moment. He could almost kill himself for even entertaining this line of conversation. His inner self was screaming not to, to look at their so-called history and _learn_ from it! Wasn't there a plethora of good reasons for keeping far, far away from a relationship with this man? Why then was he stopping to think?

His haggard gaze moved up from the sidewalk, taking in the other's measure in a desperate bid to gauge sincerity.

For some reason, Takano's eyes had departed from their fixed position on him, darting elsewhere with the quality of suspicion.

Onodera, rather than following the trail of the vision, quickly rallied, wiser sense prevailing in the split second. With the other seemingly distracted for the first time that night, the brunette gingerly eased himself from his leaning post, fully intending to make a break for it.

It might be his only chance to get a head start, and the only chance of arriving at the train station with a clearer head than he possessed now.

Sneakily, he began the process of edging away, only to be stopped when, out of the corner of his eye, Takano's expression rapidly altered. The next instant that he experienced, the man's hands were suddenly on him, lining up flat against his back and thrusting him off balance, tumbling into the direction he had intended to travel.

Yelping in surprise at being shoved, Ritsu's body heaved forward, sending him flying in a mess of legs that was so far tangled that he nearly fell face first onto the sidewalk.

Steadying his center of gravity, he had just won, when in the same second there was loud sort of explosion that sounded like metal grinding from behind him, followed instantaneously by a bone-chilling scream. His eyes widened to a painful degree at the terrifying noises, and he almost didn't want to turn around in that moment, fearing what might be discovered by looking.

Before he could make his muscles work, the night was imbued with a chorus of frantic yells, some foreign, and some cripplingly familiar.

The brunette hovered on the spot, eyes rolling back in his head then, his semblance drowning in dread. He knew the voice that stuck out from the rest, and it only confirmed his worst fear in the situation. Still, he needed to, he _had_ to-

Pivoting rapidly, he forced himself to look. Next he had to force himself not to simply run away.

Feeling as if all the air was sucked out of his chest, he dropped to his knees next to Takano, eyes darting helplessly over the length of the man's body, particularly at the junction where a sickening sight where one leg bent in a direction it was never meant to bend. On top of the limb weighed a hunk of steel, for what purpose, it mattered not. Ritsu dug his nails into one wrist, cursing at himself to get it together. Now was not the time to have a panic attack. Not... yet.

Heart thundering agonizingly against the walls of his chest, he took stock, trying to get the logical part of his brain to kick in, take over. Takano was awake. Currently emitting terrible sounds, but conscious. Blood... _was_ there blood? Ritsu fiercely scanned everywhere that his vision could stretch. No, none. Any other obvious injuries? It didn't seem like it. What could he do? Doctor... that was what was needed. He needed to do that.

"R-R-" The beginnings of speech emerged from the one laying beside him, and the younger hastened to show that he was paying close attention, his hand lightly touching against the elder's shoulder as if to encourage him.

He could tell Takano was struggling to speak at a normal keel, and that finding only heaped more fright onto Onodera's already peaking well of emotion.

He had no clue of how to handle the situation when the other was indisposed to such a degree. Even if he didn't like to think about it too much, Takano he had always classified as light years more capable at life than himself, and in that vein he was reliant on that capability, at least at work. Taking charge was a new thing, but Ritsu knew that he needed to in that moment.

"Ritsu? Are you all right? Tell me..." the elder hissed desperately once he could talk, eyes shut in the wake of all-consuming pain.

"Am _I_ all right? Takano-san... seriously?!"

Emerald eyes narrowed with skepticism, and the younger quickly un-pocketed his phone, dialing the emergency number.

 

**. . . . .**

"I'm sorry to be taking so long, but I need you to confirm your last name and date of birth for me."

Takano didn't balk at the inquiries but dutifully answered them instead, passing along the proper information. The stage of patience had appeared to have dawned on the elder now that he had some sort of medication circulating through his body. That in of itself was a small boon, but not nearly enough to calm every last one of Ritsu's anxieties. During the entire admission process, he had found himself wanting to glue himself to every action; to remain close to Takano.

It was if he was worried he'd lose sight of the man, and then they would really be in trouble. An irrational mind-state, but his current reality. At least they had found their way to the hospital, and the practicalities could be handled. It had taken surprisingly less time than either anticipated for Takano to both see a doctor and receive preliminary treatment. Now, they were looking at having an x-ray of his leg taken.

"Okay and one more question. We have to ask this of everyone, so I do hope it's not offensive... is there any possible chance that you could be pregnant?"

Amber irises widened subtly, their color momentarily masked as the owner blinked both lids shut.

Masamune had to take pause at the idea, given the nature of the earlier argument that had taken place before he came here. If it had him that way, back then... he had wondered in the past if that would have altered the outcome any. But... if he hadn't been able to protect Onodera, what chance would he have had if it was reversed? Little, and probably less.

Pushing away the noxious reverie, Takano composed himself. "It's fine, and no. There would be no chance of me being..." he gestured weakly with his hand, and the man interviewing him made a return that showed he understood.

"All right, I will take you in and we can get set up. Remember, I need you to remain still. Other than that, there's not much you have to do; it's easy. Let's go ahead and get this done, huh? Then you can get back to resting up that leg."

"Uh..." Onodera punctuated, before trailing off the vocalization. He didn't particularly know why he had spoken up, and the absurdity caused him to shift nervously on his feet, avoiding the third party's stare.

"...Yes, sir?"

Timid, he acquiesced, "I can sit in on that, right?" His mind wasn't working clearly, so the request came as a surprise even to him when he uttered it.

Smiling morosely, the tech put a hand on Ritsu's shoulder and carefully replied, "I'm sorry, but no, Onodera-sama. Radiation isn't something we want to expose people to unless there's a need for it. There is, however, a place for you to sit outside while we take the pictures of your friend. It won't take very long, so try to relax, all right? You look very pale and I don't want to have to have you admitted to the hospital too."

Nodding feverishly in embarrassment, and filled with mottled thoughts, the affected agreed not to follow them in for the x-ray.

Almost in the same instant that he dropped into the chair in the waiting room, hot tears began rolling down Onodera's face, zigzagging an ineloquent path over his cheeks and lower neck. The outburst came on quick, his skin beginning to warm with the blotchy feel that came from a true cry. Both hands gripped onto the arm rests of the seat, needing an anchor of sorts as his mind jostled with confusion.

At first, he couldn't even process what was happening.

It was just, he was stunned. How could Takano, _Takano_ , have gotten hurt like that? It didn't, it would not register. Even if he had been right there when it had happened, Ritsu didn't comprehend it. The man wasn't going to die, or anything near as drastic, but the incident was serious enough that Onodera felt sufficiently rattled.

Deep down, he knew that what had been done had been done for him. How to contend with the truth was another story.

Coming so soon as he'd rejected Takano, it compelled Ritsu wonder what his one-time love's true feelings were. Was it possible somehow that Takano wasn't trying to reclaim him for some ignoble purpose, and that the elder had loved him for as long as either of them could remember?

 

**. . . . .**

It was somewhere in the ballpark of twenty minutes before the technician resurfaced, carting Takano out in his chair into the waiting room where Ritsu was sitting. The brunette swabbed quickly at his eyes, trying to eliminate any traces of his tears. They weren't something he really cared for an audience to when he hadn't even figured out himself where all these emotions were stemming from, nor what they meant.

Standing, he waited for further instructions.

"Your friend here called for a car to pick the both of you up, but since this is so far out from where you live, it might take a while to get it here. My charge nurse has prepared a temporary room for while you're waiting. Can I get you to come with me? I'll show the way."

Ritsu wondered just how the employee was able to maintain a calm expression; he felt ready to shatter into pieces at any given moment. Was there a part of the brain that turned off for medical staff, or something? In any case, he was glad he'd never gone anywhere near the profession. He accepted his directions though, capering close behind as the guy led them both to the room.

Once there, a nurse was obtained, and both the tech and her helped to ease Takano into a bed while moving his leg as little as possible. Ritsu waited awkwardly at the door of the room during the process, not sure if there was anything he could reasonably do to help. From there, the nurse inquired about a few things, additionally reminding his senior that while they were sending him home with crutches, it would be better if he were to actually _rest_ his leg than push the envelope.

She soon departed, leaving the two in the room to kill time until the car arrived. Onodera figured that he could leave on his own, if he had so desired, but the truth was, that was really the last thing he felt like doing. His guilt had already began to eat at him over the entire fiasco, and it was painful enough that he burned for an immediate relief, some way to start rectifying the debt.

Daring to inch closer, he approached Takano for the first time, politely asking, "How are you feeling right now?"

"Honestly I'd just like to sleep, more than anything. Medicine's doing a number on me-" Takano sighed with exasperation, rolling his eyes. Ritsu nodded slowly and then took possession of the chair at the elder's bedside, lowering himself with unusual grace. His work bag he placed on the floor, and only then did he chance a side glance at the other.

Takano was staring at him.

"...Do you want to talk about it?"

"Talk about what?" Onodera forced out a false chuckle, hand swiping at a non-existent particle on his sweater. "I thought you wanted to sleep."

"I can't damn well doze off when you're upset," the raven griped indignantly, "so out with it."

"I am _fine_ ," Ritsu insisted crossly, "Feel free to sleep."

Images of earlier might have been plaguing his mind, a little, but he figured that was normal. Anyone would feel traumatized after witnessing such an event. It meant absolutely nothing other than he wasn't too jaded to experience a natural reaction. Still, he'd be lying if he said that he felt no guilt. Fate had decreed him to be in that spot tonight; it should have been his leg that was smashed by the beam. That it wasn't, bothered him immensely at the moment.

"I'll be fine, you realize, right? In a few months I'll be healed back to how I was before. And... I don't regret doing it."

"Thank you." It was something he meant, but also a phrase Ritsu had to encourage himself to say.

"You didn't have to. I was the one standing there, after all, not getting out of the way when something was going on. It would have been better if it were me... I'm not as important," the brunette recited dully, covering his eyes with his hand. Truthfully, Onodera meant at _work_ he wasn't as vital, but it could be that a part of him felt that way about his life in general. If he had been someone worthwhile, then maybe his life wouldn't have turned out so shitty thus far.

"That doesn't even have a shred of truth to it. If not for anyone else, for me, you are that important. You are my entire world, Ritsu."

"Please, don't say things like that," he begged, voice cracking at the tail end. A recall of tears was pricking at the corner of his already exhausted eyes, as pathetic as that was, and if he wasn't careful, he was going to morph into a blubbering mess in front of the very last person he wanted to show that to. He wasn't even sure why his emotions kept running over, but it terrified him.

"Hey, hey now," smoky tones soothed.

A hand wrapped around his wrist, pulling his fingers away from his face. Onodera startled, yanking out of the grasp reflexively. "I'm fine, thank you."

"Right," Takano returned, unbelieving, looking equally as displeased. He let out a sigh of frustration, turning his gaze forward. The gesture though, rather than stoking the fire for the younger, inspired him an oppositional feeling. One of embarrassment for his actions. On a basic level, Takano had done for him what anyone would call for him, a huge act. He had saved him from at least injury, if not more. And here he was, practically shunning any sort of overture. It wasn't right.

He had to make amends somehow, for everything. Everything for which he owed. It didn't have to mean anything more than repaying a debt.

"I-I was thinking I should help look after you..." he began awkwardly, speaking up, "it is my fault you're this way, obviously. At least until you're closer to being recovered."

Takano didn't hesitate to jump on the idea, irritation somehow vanished.

"That would be a big help," he phrased carefully, trying to avoid seeming too delighted by the suggestion. "I might need you to take care of a few things at work, also. Just bringing materials to me, mainly. I'm not gonna try to dump all my responsibilities on you."

"No," Ritsu agreed quickly, thankful to the gods that the man had taken no issue with the change of subject, "I know that. I figured that much would happen."

Suddenly, the elder interjected with a new detail. "We should just stay at your apartment together. I'll pay you for your trouble, but if you're going to look after me, it'd probably be easier to do it that way than coming down the hall to my place every time something needed to be done."

"E-Excuse me?"

Truthfully, the idea wasn't the most _pleasant_ thing Ritsu had ever heard of. That kind of proximity... it was unnerving. Yet, at the same time, logically, it made sense. Everything would be more convenient if they were both in the same place. And, it wasn't like he could be pressured into anything he didn't want to do. He had promised himself already that he wasn't going to let Takano get under his skin in that way any more. Even in this kind of set-up. Beside, he did have an extra room... it wouldn't be as hellish as his emotions were trying to persuade him it was. It couldn't possibly be.

"It's up to you what you want to do. I'm just making a suggestion."

"No... I suppose I could live with that. Only if it's really about convenience."

Takano smiled for the first time that evening. "Deal."

**END CHAPTER.**


	19. Love Is A Many-Splendored Thing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters/Pairings: Misaki, Akihiko, Haruhiko [Part One]; Tero, Mistake [Part Two]

**. . . Triangle . . .**

(August 24th, 2012)

* * *

It was a marvel, all of the rings that were glaring at him like the unseen eyes of ghosts. The jeweler's was rather cleared out at the time, but then again it was early, so most people weren't quite off work yet.

Haruhiko was in the process of waiting for the gemologist to clean the band he'd purchased for Misaki. The different stones placed within the ring each had a special meaning; one for Misaki's birth month, one for his, the month of the wedding, the month they'd gotten engaged, and the first time they'd been intimate. He could think of more important dates, but he knew Misaki wouldn't appreciate a gaudy ring, so he kept it simple.

His own band would mirror Misaki's in that the stones would be opposite. So when they were at the altar, the stones would match up as they stood across from one another.

The idea of getting married caused the man to smile within, but he kept his stoic persona outward so as not to look any different than people were used to seeing him as. In truth, as of recent, he'd been worried about what had been going on with Misaki, so it was quite the chore keeping his cool. It would be an understatement to say that Haruhiko would be relieved when the ceremony was over and done with, finalized. Maybe then he could release some of his fears away and look optimistically toward the future, to a family and the remainder of his lifetime spent with the ones he cared for.

"Usami-sama, this set of rings you picked out is perfect. I've got Takahashi-kun's already finished; yours will be a little bit longer. I know you wanted to take his home today so you could surprise him." The jeweler was an old family friend who had even done the rings for Haruhiko's father's royal wedding, many years ago.

"I appreciate your assistance in the matter, sensei." The response was blunt, but the elder Usami son knew the man well enough to know that he wouldn't be offended.

"Maybe you should bring in your future husband when you pick yours up," the jeweler suggested as he finished putting the ring in a box and tying it off with a plain, black ribbon.

Haruhiko nodded, but didn't say anything out loud. The man in question was acting so distant lately it made him wonder if the wedding was even going to happen. A pang of pain hit his body and caused his nerves to scream, yet he kept his continence. It wouldn't do for someone of his status to have a meltdown in such a place.

"Thank you, Sensei, for everything," he commented, trying to sound as if all was right with the world when deep down he knew it wasn't.

**. . . . .**

"You never answered my question, the last time I saw you."

Takahashi dropped the bowl he had been holding up as a frisson of surprise ricocheted within him, sending the beginnings of a salad sprawling all across the granite counter. Mind working fast pace, he reflexively began to try to tame the mess, gathering up leaves of cabbage and other greens and cornering them back into the vessel, thinking errantly that he'd need to start over on the dish for cleanliness' sake.

Instead, the boy was made to pause when a hand brushed against his arm, stilling it with one movement. A body leaned into his from behind as if using him as a post for balance, touching every inch. Green eyes blinked, and a frown crept onto the youth's face.

Realizing from the action that ignoring the elder was not a viable response, Misaki caved and led with, "Why are you here, Usami-sama? You aren't supposed to be here."

"I can't simply leave you alone. I love you, Misaki, and what I want more than anything is to not be in this place. I wish you would agree to come and live with me."

The younger of the two males faltered.

Could the prince not hear the words that were stemming from his own mouth, and realize that was a situation that wasn't easy? It wasn't the matter of packing his belongings and making the short trip, but everything else in life that blockaded that option. Sometimes... the way Usagi-san spoke, it was like he didn't even consider Haruhiko-san an obstacle at all. As if the man wasn't in existence.

"I can't..." his voice wavered, and he thought to make the point swirling around his mind. "It's not that easy, Usagi-san. There are a lot of reasons why not."

"Sure it is," the elder coaxed mellifluously, hand comfortably soothing Misaki's shoulder, long digits massaging away the tension. Akihiko was relieved at the abrupt change in name that the brunette had bestowed on him. Hearing such a proper moniker as Usami-sama felt foreign in the severest degree to him. "I will be right here to help you, so you need not worry."

Though the words were sweetly-spoken, earnest even, something in Misaki's head protested the idea. Feeling a surge of indignation, he suddenly snapped, "I am supposed to be marrying your brother!"

Before he could relay more of his point across, the brunette felt his body swiftly revolved, and lips clashed with his mouth, drowning out any further utterings. For a string of moments, the boy struggled, hands scrunching at the front of Usami's clothing and trying to wrest the man from him.

But, a mere instant later, his irresolute mind jettisoned all notion of resistance, succumbing to the tidal wave of love that he felt emanating from the prince's fierce embrace. Hands cascaded downward and lips fluidly moved with the flow of it all, placidly parting to allow a deeper exploration.

Akihiko deviated from the main once he felt Misaki's walls begin to dissipate, gingerly attending to the youth's succulent, inviting neck. His tongue traced a hollow at the base, wetting the beautiful flesh down with flourish. It only brought forth the desired sounds, his own joy at having the license of doing this. Talking was perhaps not a strength of the royal's, for all his dalliances with the written word. Clear actions as these were the only real way he felt he could argue back to the injunction laid at his feet.

He knew very well about Misaki's situation. It simply did not make a difference to the silver-haired scion. His brother was not an opponent he needed to fear, and the power was in his side of the court, not Haruhiko's. Misaki might feel obligated to the other because he had been there first, but that was a futile line of reasoning. The heart is a complicated thing; it does not follow logic like the first finder is a person's keeper.

"If it's a settled down life that Misaki wants," Akihiko murmured in the crook of the boy's shoulder, "I will happily give that to him. Any part of it, all of it."

A strange feeling bloomed in the youth at that statement. For a minute there, he was forced to wonder if that was what he truly desired. It was right that he preferred a more peaceful day-to-day regime, but was that life meant to be spent at Usagi-san's side? Or Haruhiko-san?

Before he could consider it too much, his body was lifted from the ground and into the cool arms of the elder, erasing all hope of logical decision-making.

"Wait!" Misaki protested as he was summarily carried off, to the bedroom he used to occupy before becoming one with his fiancé. "Not here," he croaked.

It hardly did him any good as the prince placed him on the bed and immediately attacked his lips. It was a horrible thing he was doing, getting intimate in the bed he and Haruhiko had used before, but for some reason whenever the prince was around, all common sense flew out the window on the breeze.

Misaki kissed back as the prince started to unbutton his shirt. Immediately, the cool air sliced at his skin, causing his tender nipples to firm up and beg to be touched.

"I won't stop, Misaki," Usami purred, leaning down and sucking gently on his left bud, causing Misaki to moan. "Not when I know you want this as much as I."

He couldn't deny that fact, when he and Usagi were like this he wanted it and he wanted it bad.

Even his inner dialogue stopped half the time because he couldn't think properly when the elder was making love to him with his mouth, his hands…his very need. Misaki threw back his head into the pillow as his trousers were lowered and he was quickly enveloped in the warmth that was the prince's mouth. The feelings such motions created were ecstasy and all he could reasonably do was squirm, to try and deflect the extraneous sensations.

It didn't take long for him to feel the tingling sensation as he climaxed onto the other man's tongue. The entire process took less than two minutes, which was too fast in his mind. Far too fast.

Intelligence impaired, he felt Usami oji-sama move up the bed and claim his mouth as ardently as he ever did.

He could taste his essence on the other's tongue as they battled for dominance. In the midst, he could hardly recall what had been said minutes ago, though he knew the gist in his mind. These days, it felt like his mind had less and less resistance to spare in an argument. This both confused and gave him hope. Hope that he was nearing some form of conclusion in the struggle.

Misaki didn't even know when it happened, but within moments of his mouth being assaulted he felt the Prince pierce his backside and he let out a wanton cry as his legs wrapped of their own accord around the younger Usami's back. The man was driving into him with ardency, and each powerful stroke against his febrile insides was processed keenly, sending jolts of electricity careening up from where they were joined. He could sense the elder growing larger inside of him, and the simple flyaway notion was enough to make him want to boil over.

**. . . . .**

Haruhiko didn't quite know what to think as he stood in the doorway of Misaki's personal bedroom.

There was his lover, the one he'd pledged to spend the rest of his life with, legs coiled around his younger brother while they danced the forbidden tango. He hadn't wanted to believe it was happening, but he'd had his suspicions. This definitely confirmed it, in spades.

Once he'd returned to the house and seen his brother's car in the driveway he'd almost raced inside to see what was going on.

Not seeing Misaki in any of the communal rooms or the kitchen, his heart had fallen to the floor as he made his way to the hallway where the bedrooms were located. His hand shook from a wide array of emotions when he opened his own bedroom door; the room had been empty. So he went to Misaki's old door and could hear unmistakable noises echoing from within.

For a moment, he almost wanted to turn and leave, but he found his body on autopilot as his hand reached for the handle. Slowly, he pushed open the door and was greeted with the sight of his worst nightmare, and he couldn't even cry. All he could do was drop his briefcase, still in hand, to the floor. And yet, neither of the lovers knew he was there.

Moments after opening the door, he could hear his own fiancé climax and call out a pet form of his little brother's name. This was followed by the prince finding his own release and falling on top of the younger man in a heap. Haruhiko could then hear the other Usami whispering into Misaki's ear, but couldn't make out what was being said. Not that he particularly cared to know.

Eyes bloodshot as if he'd cried for the entire day, Haruhiko took a step forward before taking two steps back beyond the doorway. "Excuse me," he apologized, softly.

With those words, green eyes swung upward and met gray; Misaki could see the hurt in his fiancé's eyes. His eyes left Haruhiko's and landed on Usagi, who was glaring at the elder of the two noble brothers.

There was disdain written on the prince's countenance and within moments Misaki could feel the tears start to slide down his face.

It was in that moment that shock captivated the boy and he truly realized what the consequences of all this were. Everything was no longer a scenario in mind that he worried would happen, but something that actually had. And it was more terrible than any of his previous imaginings.

"Can't you see we're a little busy?" the prince posed, hand resting on his lover's shoulder as if to guard him from the traumatized stare surveying them both.

"Yes, I'll leave," Haruhiko stated calmly as he shut the door. He could hear Misaki call for him as the portal latched, but girded his ears to the cry so that he could run for cover. Before he could even begin to process what he'd witnessed, he needed to find a safe haven to uncover it all in.

Without another thought he walked away from the room and made his way back to the front door. His car was still parked in the driveway, so he got in and turned on the ignition. Lost and feeling more alone than he'd felt since he met the kid, Haruhiko drove out of the driveway, aiming his course toward the one place he knew he'd be welcomed when his entire world was falling apart.

. . . . .

"Daddy, when I go to school, will I meet my special person too?"

Having the innocent question posed to him caused the elder to laugh, at the precociousness of it all. Reaching over, he ruffled the boy's sandy brown hair and grinned.

"You never know!" he singsonged, watching in amusement as the kid's eyes gullibly widened like plates. What else could you really say, though? No one ever knew how life was going to play out, and for all Isaka knew, Hideyoshi might meet someone as early on as preschool that he later turned out to love.

The whole fantastical notion was kind of his fault to begin with. Isaka had mentioned to the kid before that Asahina and he had first met when they were schoolkids. Not quite preschool age, but not seriously older either. It appeared to have really stuck with the boy if he was still wondering about it a week later.

"C'mon though, let's not worry about that. Show me how well you can toss that ball, huh?"

The miniature brunette nodded, carefully walking a fair distance away from his father and then turning to face the man, compact orange ball in hand.

Concentrating with all the intensity a young child could muster, Hide situated himself and then launched the ball under-hand, sending it flying in a spectacular arch in the direction of the other player. Moments later, Isaka stooped to catch it artfully, and so the game progressed from then on.

For the space of about twenty minutes, it was halcyon, a simple pastime for father and child. The late summer air wrapped around everyone like a humid blanket, pleasant enough in its embrace compared to the exertion it warranted. When the companionable silence was shattered, it came not as a stark interruption, but more of a slow and unsettling one instead.

At some point in the early evening, the sound of a motor drawing nearer caught the ears of the yard's occupants, and a dark sedan soon came into view, parking at the nearest terminus of the driveway. Upon further inspection, Ryuuichirou noted the man the vehicle was housing, and was taken aback to find that it was Haruhiko, given that he hadn't expected a visit of any sort tonight.

 _'What the fuck?_ ' Isaka mused to himself, eyebrow quirked in acute concern as he continue to survey the sight.

The behavior was so unlike the guy that the executive caught on immediately that there could be few reasons why Haruhiko had showed up at his house unannounced, and he didn't like any of the options. Simply put, something terrible must have occurred.

"Here, you, take the kid inside," he directed the order at the lady in charge of watching the children when he and his spouse were at work.

Something was fishy about his friend's arrival, and he had a strong suspicion as to the cause. Whatever the case, Hideyoshi had no business witnessing anything like the conversation he wanted to start with Usami. And besides, if the boy was still here when the man emerged from the car, he wouldn't want to leave; the tot was attached to his "uncle" like white in a snowstorm.

"What would you have me do with him, sir?" the woman inquired seriously, taking over the duty of holding Hideyoshi's hand from his father.

The toddler squirmed, scrunching up his nose at the change. It was as if the kid could sense something was different in the milieu, and, really, Ryuuichirou wouldn't be surprised if he could. That was only more reason for him to separate him from the approaching scene.

"I don't know, he just needs not to be out here. Hurry," Isaka urged, making a pointed turn of his head to alert his little son that he needed to follow the governess inside. "Please," he added as an afterthought. Manners should still be observed, at least. And, sure enough, she went quietly after that, towing an overzealous Hide-chan back into the house for a different means of play.

After the important things were squared away, Usami still hadn't emerged from the car, so Isaka decided to make the first move.

Stalking up to the midnight-colored automobile, he rapped on the driver's side window bluntly, demanding that the man pay him the time of day. From what he could make out through the glass, Haruhiko was sitting up straight against the seat, staring directly ahead. Upon a second, more serious investigation, the cobalt-eyed believed he could see tears slowly wending from unfocused eyes.

That, more than anything, was what flipped the switch for him. Taking a chance, he yanked at the door handle, and there emitted a click before the portal gave way and allowed him to open it up. When he did, Haruhiko turned his blurred lenses that way, voice barely registering in volume as he spoke, "I can't believe it. I can, but I also cannot. You were right all along, Ryuuichirou."

The named's face twisted in disgust upon hearing that truth, horrified. Nothing else needed to be said for him to discern the grander scheme of what must have occurred. It appeared that the dark clouds that had been circling for the past few months had finally let loose their shower, drowning his companion along the way.

"Well, fuck," Isaka groaned, already feeling the effects of anger stirring hotly within his stomach, "...Don't just sit in the car, let's go inside."

He composed his expression as best as he could in the situation and fervently snatched at Haru's arm, coaxing the man out of the vehicle and back toward the house, letting the other use him to lean on as they walked.

It was oddly reminiscent of times past when the problems had been lighter - maybe he'd had too much to drink and the elder Usami would have to pick up after him; the powers that be knew that had happened often enough when they were younger. Never could he recall being the one to have to be in charge though. He was the problem child, not Haruhiko, and despite that, he wished it were reversed to how it normally was. As it stood, Isaka wasn't quite sure how to deal with this, though he'd damn well do his best to make sure that retribution was handed out to the parties involved in dragging his pal down to such an emotional low.

A few minutes later, settled into one of the parlors closest to the front of the house, the two sat themselves at a table, one meaning to extract an explanation from the other if at all possible. Apart from that first initial statement, Haruhiko had been eerily quiet. Tears fell from twinned slate irises without discernible pause, but words were not so forthcoming.

Appearing exhausted, the man eventually pulled something from his suit pocket and passed it over to his friend.

Isaka's eyes roamed over the top of a nondescript black box with angered curiosity. Across the table, Usami relieved himself of his glasses, setting them gingerly on the flat surface and then hunching over it, hiding his face from further view. Isaka, bogged down by a rather uncomfortable pit in the bottom of his stomach, reluctantly opened the inky square to examine the contents. When he saw what lay inside, his fears were summarily confirmed.

Perched on a bed of velveteen material was a simple but gleaming platinum band, plain apart from the minute etching of a message on the interior. He snatched it up immediately, figuring everything had already gone to hell; why not read the damned thing? This was what Haruhiko had been planning to give to his fiancé when what had just happened, happened. He might as well have all the sordid facts of the occurrence.

In block letters, the inscription was soon revealed.

 _Haruhiko_ ∞ _Misaki._

 

* * *

  **. . . Tero . . .**

(September 1st, 2012)

* * *

 

Quite frankly, Miyagi wasn't sure whether to be amused, or to wonder how he'd managed to get himself into such an eccentric position.

The fiery young man he'd somehow agreed to devote his remaining years to was currently standing before him, giving the oratory performance of his life on precisely how the coming months were going to be spent. Truthfully, he had no objections to any of this, but it was entertaining to let the kid go on speaking as if Miyagi needed to be convinced of the plans. Shinobu was being enthusiastic, in his own belligerent way, and it brought a concealed smile to the professor's face.

This whole conversation had been initiated shortly after breakfast.

Miyagi had been peacefully attempting to read a new book in his home office when one terrorist had stalked into the quiet room, breaking up the literary ataraxia and demanding attention. The very first request, no, order that had been put to the elder? That one had been exact. The kid had stated that he wanted to be married in the space of a month. October the second.

At the time, his brain had felt muddled, weighing the reasons why he could understand the other's urgency in the matter with why it had to be that particular day. When the raven had inquired as to the impetus, he'd been treated to a snippy but stammering response of, "It's just important to me, okay?! Also, I want you to take my name when we do it."

Miyagi chuckled after the teen's outburst, which caused Shinobu to glower. Then the professor placed his hand atop the sandy-blond head of the younger and ruffled his hair fondly.

"Whatever you want to do, Shinobu-pon, is what we'll do." At the use of the cutesy '-pon' being attached to his name, Shinobu turned brick red and glared at the older man standing before him.

"Well, then, what now?"

Miyagi picked the boy up, bridal style.

"What in the fuck are you doing, old man?!" Shinobu screeched.

"I am taking my future to the bedroom, where I plan on covering him in love bites, followed by planting my seed inside of him, multiple times, just to prove that I am going to be a good Takatsuki," said old man stated with a cheeky grin.

Shinobu burned, but didn't put up any resistance. He wanted to feel Miyagi inside of him anyway.

"Can I still call you Miyagi, though?" he asked, as he pretended to squirm a little.

To be sure, he had thought he'd receive more resistance to his ideas than he was currently getting. When he'd been psyching himself up to ask for them, earlier this morning, he'd been certain he'd come off as rudely overbearing. That Miyagi was apparently just going to _let_ him get away with all that he desired, rather than fazing Shinobu, made him fall more in love with the man's generous nature.

"Only you can call me that, Shinobu-chin."

"Good," the younger responded.

**. . . . .**

Shinobu crawled onto the bed, keeping his expression as passive as was manageable.

It was difficult, though, with the way that Miyagi was staring at him as he moved about; something in that gaze made him both nervous and giddy - not that he would ever confess to being either of those two. He straddled the other's lap, perching himself carefully as he finally took a good look at his husband. The word was so final sounding, and a relief, also.

Cautiously, his hands moved to the front of the button-up shirt, lessening the ties one by one as their stare remained intact. He couldn't find it in him to turn away because, despite everything, the embarrassment wasn't there. Where it had gone and when it had gone away, Shinobu couldn't pinpoint. All he felt now were simple things; no shame, no real hesitation... he wanted this and he knew Miyagi did also, so the atmosphere was benign.

"Pretty sexy there, Shinobu-chin," Miyagi commented, grinning rakishly.

Instead of a sweet response, the other bristled, "C-could you please not say that? I mean, not in that way. I... would appreciate you being serious."

"No?"

Miyagi quirked a brow, secretly pleased that the younger seemed to be more courageous than he had initially been when they first did this. It appeared that Shinobu had gotten over what bridge he needed to cross as far as being comfortable. He had all the passion in the world, but the elder supposed that with youth and inexperience, nerves soon followed. He was seeing less of that now, with the boy beginning to take some control. Miyagi suspected that somewhere within his personality existed a dominant streak, and here it was, finally coming out to play, what little that it would.

"No," Shinobu answered resolutely. "It's not that I don't like it, it's just that tonight is special. You finally agreed to marry me after all."

Miyagi reached out for him, placing a hand on either hip and looking him dead in the eye. "I think it is also, and though I may say that teasingly, I do mean what I say."

Shinobu stopped for a moment after loosening the final button. He placed both palms against the other's chest, pensive, and then commented, "I understand that, about you. I _like_ that about you, really, but..."

"But you had a mental image of how this was supposed to go, and I'm not exactly playing along?" Miyagi smiled in earnest now, knowing that his conclusion was the correct one when Shinobu's fingertips pressed firmer into his skin, his head turning downwards, suddenly a shade shy.

"What you have to remember, though, Shinobu-chin, is that dreams, while pleasant, are only specters compared to what's reality." His own hand roamed lazily, stroking the outline of the blond's hipbone through the thin layer of clothes still present, right before switching and trailing up the youth's slender chest. Keen slate eyes avidly followed the travel, and Miyagi swore the other's pulse was beating rampant enough to hear.

Giving in to the silent request, he plucked at one fleshy bud, rolling it firmly between two fingers, bowing his head to anoint the twin with his tongue. The taste of the youth's skin was ravishing, the tender flesh sliding silkily against his tongue as he suckled the mound to full stiffness.

"Am I more than your dream?" he imparted huskily against trembling shoulders, hot breath pulsing against a patch of unmarked skin.

His teeth lightly serrated against tender flesh, tongue bobbing against what was roughed on second pass, making soothing swipes against signs of love.

He hadn't ever really thought of himself as that kind of partner, to have the mind-boggling urge to leave numerous traces behind, to claim, to imprint himself on the one he stood with side by side. The noises he gleaned though, the hand that twisted and tightened in the thick of his hair - those were probable cause enough. Shinobu's motions seemed to speak to him and let him voice his approval in new ways. Miyagi figured that he knew why the younger man was so receptive, and it burdened him with some sadness as much as it fed his desire.

Partly his fault, but he thought that doing this was the reassurance Shinobu needed, to verify that all was real.

"M-Miyagi," Shinobu's voice shook, and he pulled back, looking partially unnerved, but mostly excited.

He leapt forward, breaking the spell and capturing the elder's lips with his persistent ones.

Miyagi smiled into it. Though he still had some reservations about this, whenever Shinobu had these reactions, he felt as if he could really believe the teen when he claimed passionate love. He still could not definitively say the moment he had decided to love this boy. Perhaps it was something that built up slowly over time, ebbing at the edges of his consciousness. He had resisted it in the beginning, had been caught up in his own stagnant life, but he was genuine in his attempt now.

Shinobu's tongue prodded and swiped insistently at his lips, begging for entrance. He granted that much, feeling the thrill it sent through his young lover as they met. Shinobu's body turned into his, seeking that extra measure of closeness. He wrapped one arm around the youth's middle, pulling them almost flush as he slowly took control of their oral embrace. That seemed to be their rhythm more and more. Miyagi found that he enjoyed holding back for a spell, taking in the affection foisted on him before paying it back in triplicate.

Shinobu was the sort of young man who never gave up. Even if he didn't feel like he was getting a response, his heart craved the things it wanted so badly that he would sacrifice his own pride to passionately chase after them.

"I..." the youth let out a shaky breath as he disengaged from the kiss, staring Miyagi straight on, "I want us to have a family."

The elder stumbled at the oddly-timed question, chuckling awkwardly. "Oh? And when?"

"Now, of course! I want to have a lot of kids, so we should start right away. ...Is that a problem?"

A steely visage persisted, and Miyagi was left to search his mind for an appropriate answer. Truth be told he wasn't expecting to be accosted with such an order at a time like this. What Shinobu wanted wasn't a bad thing, maybe a little quick for the pace he'd envisioned, but... was that such a terrible thing in the long run? More information was required.

"I suppose not, but what do you mean by a 'lot' of children?"

"Ten."

"Ten?!" The elder's jaw quite honestly dropped at the figure. He had been estimating something more along the lines of three, or four, at the very maximum.

"Hmm," Shinobu revised, "No, that's not the number I was thinking of before. I had a dream about our kids a while ago, and we had almost all boys. How many of them were there though?" he trailed off, trying to recall the chimera and attempt a head count.

"Hopefully not ten," Miyagi offered, feeling his head begin to spin a little at the sheer volume of that idea.

"I think there were twelve, altogether, including our daughter."

"Twelve-" the professor sighed audibly before proceeding seriously, "Shinobu-chin, let's be reasonable. Don't you think that will be a bit much, especially with me working, and you going for your degree? Well, it wouldn't be at once that we would have that many, but eventually, having twelve or so children will be _difficult_. You won't have any free time."

"Do I look like the sort of person who pines over their free time to you? To me, having a family with you _is_ my top priority. It is what I want more than anything else I can think of. I still plan on going to college, but if I were to get pregnant, I'd go as long as I could, then take time off. I'm not giving up on either dream in the end, but the baby would obviously come first."

"But-"

"That's enough talking," Shinobu huffed.

To emphasize the point, his hand reached for a part that fallen by the wayside during their little chat. Cozying it in a firm grip, he resumed stroking the organ into life, eyes fixed onto the elder's as he did so. All mention of any of it soon left the raven's head; his other was at the forefront as far as attention now. Apart from the astronomical demands now and again, Shinobu's bossy nature tended to arouse him more than inciting anything else.

However, Miyagi was finding that patience wasn't on the menu for either of them tonight. There was nothing that sounded more divine to him than a swift taste of that beautiful skin once more.

"No more talking," he agreed quietly, gaze hooded with a sudden sultriness as he surveyed the nymphet of a boy currently dominating his lap. Amazingly, the younger's lower regions were still visibly enticed, cock pushing upward and colored a faint rose.

Taking his lover by the shoulders, the elder eased that slender frame into a more desirable position, nestled back into the splay of the mattress. Smiling fondly, he rearranged his own body between obediently parted legs, wasting no time in pressing a kiss to the softest part of Shinobu's lower stomach. Miyagi could sense even the cadence of the other's breath, feeling each wave as it sped up, approaching the form of panting.

"I love you." A quick reassurance of all that was on his mind.

"I love you too, old man," the younger male grunted, not really angry, but wanting him to get on with it. Miyagi seemed to understand this reply from him, as he only laughed and returned to the former play. Figuring he should meet the clear expectations, he finally relented, pulling the impressive protraction at a better angle and sliding it into the warm, wet haven of his mouth.

He hummed at the salty taste, his hand unexpectedly clenching at the base of Shinobu's rigid manhood. Shinobu squirmed like he had never squirmed before, feeling a jolt of pure want course through him at the simple, yet intimate touch.

Miyagi wasted no more time after that, taking the youth's length deep within his mouth on the first round. In response Shinobu felt his back wanting to arch, though with the hold his partner had on him, he wasn't permitted to move very far at all. Shinobu hardly knew how to process what was happening at first. The feeling of Miyagi's throat vibrating against his sensitive head; his warm, moist mouth enveloping the rest of him.

After a few seconds of watching Shinobu try to adjust to what he was doing, Miyagi decided to take it down a notch. Shinobu wasn't used to these kind of sensations, and especially not so expertly bestowed upon him. He didn't want the fun to end too early, did he? Miyagi slowly slid his lips back up Shinobu's shaft, resting them on his swollen knob. He wrapped one of his hands around Shinobu, squeezing firmly as he slid the tip of his tongue across the sensitive skin just under Shinobu's head.

"Ahhh," Shinobu moaned, clenching the blankets under them in his fists and squeezing his eyes shut.

Miyagi popped his head up, squeezing a little harder now and steadily starting to pump Shinobu in his hand. He asked in a silky voice, "Tell me what you want, Shinobu-chin."

The blond's body tensed upon hearing this request. Some kind of exasperated sigh huffed from his lips, half impatience and half desire. He knew exactly what he wanted. He wanted Miyagi to take him back in his mouth and make him see stars. He just didn't know how to articulate that right now. He just hissed, "On with it!"

Miyagi smirked at him, a devilish gleam in his eyes. He blew a slow, long puff of warm air onto the head of Shinobu's penis, making his little fiancé intake a sharp breath. He instructed in a quiet, authoritative tone, "Say it."

Shinobu would have said anything, at that point, if only to get the raven going again. He begged, "Put your mouth back on me." He was delighted when Miyagi did just that, sucking his head back between his lips. Those soft, talented lips! Shinobu felt his groin radiating with heat as Miyagi's tongue and curled downward, taking more of him inside until Shinobu felt the back of his throat again. It was so tight, so hot!

Pressure steadily throbbed in Shinobu's pelvic region, and he bucked his hips when Miyagi began to pull back, not wanting any more cruelly timed interruptions. He started to sweat as he anticipated that beautiful release he wanted so badly. One could only begin to imagine the dismay and anger that sparked through him when suddenly Miyagi stopped, moving away from Shinobu and leaning back on his knees silently.

"What did you stop for?!" Shinobu snapped, his voice sharp with disapproval, his eyes dark with lust, utterly forgetting he had wanted to be the one to lead their other pursuits. He had been so close!

Slithering his tongue again up the vibrantly pulsing length brought out a ragged gasp, and the elder took advantage of the distraction, gently pushing a finger into the narrow passage below, firmly circling the digit to open up the space. Working in a slow motion therein, Miyagi switched up his other tactic, dipping his head and gently sucking at the inside of the boy's milky thigh, worrying a mark onto the sweet skin.

"M-Miyagi," he protested, his choler beginning to forcibly dissipate. Between that and the incredible ecstasy, he didn't know up from down. Frankly, the various stimuli were beginning to make Shinobu feel wild.

The intrusion inside of him stirred up the fiercest sort of lust, aching to be filled to a greater degree. Contrariwise, the silken threads of Miyagi's hair against his most feverish regions was subtly tempting, the vision of the man's face buried between his legs nearly unbearable to turn his eyes on. Then there was the rest, the limbo of feeling like he was being catered to; the desire to be reciprocating in some way, his inability to merely accept the caresses for what they were.

Everything was brought to a shuddering halt when he first felt the new.

A wet press at the area where he was craving attention the most. The sensation jolted his head up, mind racing as to if what he thought was was true. The idea to look was an ill-advised one. He couldn't exactly see, but now that his thoughts were focused, he _felt_ every inch of it. The hot, slippery muscle pushing inside and flickering within, further readying him; Shinobu let loose a pleasured groan and gave up on the endeavor of trying to be still. That tactic was futile.

Grasping himself in hand, he slowly stroked to accompany the pace of his beloved's tongue elsewhere. Waiting was also overrated.

**. . . . .**

Closing his eyes for the moment, the youth felt relief start to sink in. He couldn't really explain why, but he had this insurmountable feeling that, somehow, he knew his dreams would come true. Perhaps they even had already; that was another thought on his mind that he was inclined to think was true. No one could actually know if this time had been the one to create a child, but he would continue to hope until it was proved otherwise.

Shinobu wriggled a hand free from the confines of their sleeping hold, dropping it to his (for now) flat stomach, trying to picture how in the coming months that plane might alter. It may sound ridiculous to others, but he believed in it.

The idea made him almost giddy to consider, and his vision swerved to Miyagi's face of their own accord. Rather than some idyllic picture, the elder's mouth hung open in sleep, brows furrowed comically. The blond rolled his eyes at the image. It was ludicrous sometimes how much he could love that idiot's face, but he still managed to.

One theme stayed constant in Shinobu's dreaming as he waited to drift off to slumber - they were definitely going to be a family, sooner rather than later.

**. . . . .**

Later that day, after steam had been effectively blown off and a nap was accomplished, the duo decided to make a trek into town to run errands. Shinobu had his sights on getting registered for his first classes in the fall as well as one other important matter. To deal with that, he let Miyagi know he was going off on his own to visit Isaka.

The man was naturally the only choice Shinobu entertained when it came to persons he would want at his wedding, and, more specifically, he had designs on asking the elder to serve as both his best man and the one to give him away.

It seemed clear that neither of the boy's parents would be enthused if he announced his impending nuptials, so Shinobu wasn't even going to put himself through the bother of trying to have them attend. In the end, he resented that, but he wanted more than anything for that day to be a happy one, and cutting out negativity was one way of achieving that hope.

When he arrived at his friend's abode, he was let in by one of the house staff and led summarily to the large kitchen, which, despite its domestic air, the two business-minded adult occupants used as a central meeting place. This late afternoon, only one of those men were present in the space, accompanied by the smaller of the children. Takatsuki wasn't disconcerted, however; where one was, the other was sure to be nearby.

"What brings you here?" was the polite greeting meted out to him by the sandy brunette. His hands were occupied with clearing the baby's face of food residue, but he felt Shinobu's presence in the room nonetheless.

"I need to ask Isaka something and wanted to do it in person. So, where is he? Is he showering or something? It is after work, so it's about the time you two'd normally finish up whatever madness you engage in, post quitting-time."

Asahina laughed, curtly, while scrubbing a sauce stain off the baby's cheek with a damp washcloth. Kichirou flashed a rather imperial look at his father for an infant of less than a year old, and from those features alone, his paternity could not be questioned. No crying commenced from those tiny pursed lips, but the pouting spell continued for the entire minute or so Shinobu observed the family duo. The expression was almost _too_ reminiscent of the other half of the parental equation for Shinobu's comfort.

Eventually Asahina spoke up in answer, relaying, "Right to the point as always... Ryuuichirou-sama is-or was, as it should be over soon-attending to a conference call in the study, Shinobu-kun."

"Working after hours? Since when?" the youth commented while leaning on the nearest counter to wait.

When the kitchen door itself tellingly creaked, Asahina amended in an even keel, "Or there he is now, eavesdropping most likely."

The portal then fully opened, admitting the brunette executive into the room. Isaka strolled in care-freely as he ever did, though out of the usual office wear.

Now that he was ensconced at home, the elder was sporting a navy blue sweater over a white button-up, and well-pressed khakis on bottom. Whatever personality the man had, he always garbed himself with finesse. In this instance, it was the immaculate condition of the clothes that suggested to Shinobu that the imp had somehow avoided the food mess from the baby entirely. Convenient. Suspicious.

"Oi, I'm wounded, Shinobu! I'll have you know that I am supremely capable in all and every aspect of my profession!" Isaka barked, pouting as spectacularly as his pint-sized doppelganger was, under his spouse's care. He sidled up to the two in question, motioning to Asahina to pass over the kid. Asahina, unimpressed by the timing of this fatherly intervention, frowned and handed Kichirou to Isaka before doing away with a few pieces of dinner debris that lingered on his own shirt.

"Yeah, don't start, Isaka. I've had it with you and the old man both, today, with your so-called wounds. It's a recurring theme now that I'm not fond of," Shinobu replied, following his friend over to the table on one end of the room to continue their discussion. Asahina had swiftly vacated the area, probably to regain his composure, or at least Shinobu thought. Or to take that shower that the blond had brought up earlier.

"And why is it that Miyagi-san is feeling that way?"

Fixing his gaze on the child in front of him, Shinobu explained, matter of fact, "He's afraid of having a decent sized family."

"Dare I ask what your quota on that is, exactly?"

"Twelve." Shinobu's tone was flat; no room for argument. He knew in his soul that despite the brick wall his soon-to-be husband was putting up, the man would accept that number someday. Victory was the only outcome the youth would entertain on that score. He vibrantly anticipated the day their family would be complete; for now though, what he needed to worry about was conceiving the firstborn.

"Ouch," Isaka winced even while maintaining his trademark grin, "That's a bit steep, kid. Wait until you have two or so, and you might wind up reworking that grandiose number. Children are time-sucking little monsters, after all. Very bad for productivity."

Dismissing his companion's warning with a wave of the hand, Shinobu countered, "It's not for everyone to have that many children, but even though I know it will be hard, I can't help but want it. Besides, you and Asahina-san work too much; it makes sense for you to only have two. For me that doesn't make sense. Everything I could hope for is already in place. Miyagi will be a good father, and I want to give him plenty of opportunity to be one. We will have a spacious home, and they won't want for anything. I'm not extremely interested in being a career man, so I'm not sacrificing anything to focus on our kids."

Isaka considered the concept. He supposed that, sometimes, with a different path in life, different choices did fit better.

As for him, he had been brought up to know that he would one day be at the helm of a large company; that had been his destiny. He'd happily accepted the role and flourished in it more than out of pure obligation. House husband he was most certainly not. And, as much as he adored his boys, his soul just _needed_ something outside of them. Something for himself that he could take pride in. Working provided that satisfaction.

"Still, you're a bit isolated out where you live, considering your guy works around here and your kids would go to school here too. Wouldn't it be more convenient just to get a place in the city? It's not as if you have to stay inside the capitol walls, you could set up house outside them like Kaoru and I have. Never would have pegged you to be the settle down in the country type, Shinobu."

"The country is where Miyagi's house - and he - is. And that is where I will stay. Even if I didn't want to for that reason, it's not unbearable. Contrary, it's a hell of a lot more peaceful than being in this trap, and there's more privacy, too. I honestly have nothing but positives living there. We can just come into town when we need to, and other than that, we're alone together."

Isaka chuckled devilishly, "I can see how that might appeal to you. I take it you're fucking like rabbits, then?"

The kid tellingly burned bright red, but found the gall to mutter, "None of your business!"

"Now, now, don't be coy. Tell Uncle Ryu-"

"The _fuck_ is with this uncle business, Isaka-san? I have a real uncle, and I can assure you that I would never speak to him, let alone spill details about my... private life... with Miyagi."

"I only do it because you get like this, Shinobu, and it's a total hoot." The imp grinned without any shred of shade of shame forthcoming. "Let's cut to the chase though where you tell me everything. I could use a fun tale of true love to cheer me up this afternoon. Too little of that in this world lately, sad as it is."

Shinobu's expression altered, his mind quickly honing in on the tail end of that response. Clearing his throat, he deflected, "What do you mean there's too little of it? Something I need to hear about from you?"

"Nah. Mine's still such a catch as ever. I'm just thinking out loud, is all. Life's gotten to be a bit crazy, Shinobu. At one of my best departments at work, I have an employee that, luckily, just married for love. From what I hear though, it took them decades to even get together, so that's less fortunate. In the same office, to add onto the workload of the one guy being on honeymoon, the department chief went out and got his leg broken, so he's on light duty - from home. Due to that, a third guy in the place spends a significant time with the second, helping out, or so is the excuse. They ought to be...well, anyway.

"And then, outside of work, I've got one friend, you, who's perfectly happy as can be, but my other pal is in total heartbreak. It's seriously a lot of stress."

He wasn't quite sure if it would be right to pry further into the subject, but, tentatively, Shinobu mulled the idea over. Isaka normally wasn't so loose lipped as to leak information that wasn't meant for him to hear, so, if he had brought the topic up himself, perhaps it was fine to ask.

"What happened?"

The identity of the friend was someone Shinobu thought he knew. Not that long ago at the celebration of Kichirou's birth, and on the rare occasion or two in the past, he'd crossed paths with another of Isaka's good acquaintances, Usami Haruhiko. He surmised that was the only other person - save for Asahina - that the man would consider a best friend.

"The brat who was supposed to be his fiancé up and cheated on him - or, I guess, _has_ been running around on him for some time. As if that wasn't shitty enough, kid was getting plowed by his own bro-"

Isaka's stream of words was cut off by the creak of a door a room away, by the sound of it, one of the back entrances to the house, just off the kitchen they were conversing in. Grimacing, the elder remained silent, indigo eyes casting at the nearest door, through which a man soon strode, making a purposeful debut into the space.

Suddenly feeling a little unnerved by their talk as he put two and two together, Shinobu picked up a glass from the center of the table and poured out a drink for himself from a pitcher situated in the same area. He raised it to his lips and took one slow sip, eyes perceptively scanning the newcomer over the ridge of the vessel.

The man of the moment. The only question was, what Usami was doing here looking like he'd just come straight from the office?

Haruhiko busied himself off to one side of the kitchen, not quite ignoring the two of them, but keeping to his lonesome. The air in the room seemed to have gelatinized from tangible tension as soon as he'd arrived; how could it not, with such a bomb of a story just having been dropped?

"Oi, Haruhiko! Say something. I doubt you missed at least the tail end of that, unless you've gone deaf on me, too."

"...It's fine. You may talk of it if you wish. I understand how you feel, Ryuuichirou, and as long as you keep your opinion away from Misaki, I don't care."

Isaka balked at the notion. "I _don't_ understand why you insist on shielding him. He's the one who screwed you over, and as your friend, I should be able to tell him exactly what a horr-!"

"It's my choice. Respect that, or you and I will have an issue, immediately," the other intoned with steel, slate eyes narrowed behind each lens.

The expression on Usami's face had shifted to one that even caught Shinobu off guard as the uninvolved onlooker.

"I appreciate all you have done to support me in this time, but this is something that I will have to deal with or move on from myself. I do not require assistance of that nature, nor would I ever approve of such a thing. Misaki acted as he did, but that's between he and I. It's none of your concern."

"I would like to know what you plan on doing then. You can't just sit here and take it."

"I-" Haruhiko abruptly trailed off, falling silent. Gray eyes narrowed thoughtfully, seemingly pondering the statement with care. As he did, a new arrival slipped almost unnoticed into the room until a cry shattered the quietly tense atmosphere.

"Uncle!" Hideyoshi hollered excitedly, crashing into one of Usami's legs and wrapping both tiny arms around it. The tot bounced slightly on his heels as he held on, repeating the title aloud over and over, as if it were a question in of itself. Completely oblivious to the atmosphere, Hideyoshi was more focused on gaining attention than anything else. Shinobu continued to observe, wondering just where all that extra energy came from. Or where the boy had come from in the first place.

Slate eyes blinked as if drifting out of a trance and then navigated downward to the new attachment.

At the insistent toll of "Uncle, up?" Haruhiko finally seemed to come back into his senses, gingerly bending to capture the boy in his arms and hoist him off the ground. After his godson was safely situated, the man's eyes turned back on the kid's father, a notable frown encasing his expression.

"If you must hear, I am waiting for him to come to talk to me first. I understand that I'm not who he wants to be with, but there are practical matters to be settled. If it's _him_ that Misaki wants to marry, then we would have to annul our engagement legally before-"

A fist slammed harshly onto the kitchen table.

"Damn it!" Isaka's normally unreadable cobalt gaze fired with anger. "I'm sorry, but I'm not _getting_ you right now, Haruhiko. It's okay to show some damn emotion, you know! Are you really going to put the blame on yourself? Correct me, but you're not the one who did anything. What the fuck is wrong with your head that you look at things this way?!"

Impassioned an argument as it was, it was not one Shinobu particularly cared to overhear. Even he had a little more tact than to sit there while such personal talk was being engaged in.

Rising from his seat, he shuffled around the table to where Isaka was, a disapproving expression painted on his lips. He reached for the baby and, rather than resist, Isaka distractedly handed over the little boy to the blond without a word.

The next stop was to recover the other child from Usami's care and it went as uneventfully. The man in question looked stricken by the words Ryuuichirou had unleashed on him, his eyes shifting from one reflected emotion to the next. Tears seemed like the next logical step. In his heart, Shinobu felt pity for the elder male's plight, but this was not something that children needed to be party to, and he would take charge to make sure that it wasn't.

Gathering both kids, he relocated the three of them to the nearby library. It was a quiet place, and one that unexpectedly bore pleasant memories for him of the night that, not long ago, Miyagi had formally claimed him as his by asking the youth to move in.

Settling with his back against the foot of the couch, the blond eyed both children before procuring a book from the basket on the floor nearby. Hideyoshi was sitting docilely next to his infant brother, shyly sucking on his thumb and waiting for the story to be told. Back when Shinobu had resided in the house, this had been a common event between the trio, and the kid seemed to enjoy the fiction as much as he did playing outside.

Thumbing to the first page, Takatsuki prepared to regale the Isaka's brood.

All he could hope was that Isaka and Usami would end their quarreling soon. He'd come over to ask an important question, after all, and in the wake of the drama between the two men, the attention had shifted away from him, and Shinobu had lost the opportunity to make that request. It'd be an inconvenience if he had to leave without an answer; preferably he'd be able to give Isaka at least this one month's notice so that the elder could figure out the logistics with work.

Until then, he supposed he'd just hang out with these two less troublesome individuals.

Clearing his throat, Shinobu began to read, "When the stars and moon come out to play-"

**. . . . .**

In what seemed like an eternity later, the youth was tasked with the pleasant occupation of cradling one set of weary children. Both had unexpectedly been tired underneath their outward facade, and the story told to them had delivered the effective dose of sleep sand necessary to carry them off to slumber. Shinobu hadn't been sure whether to try to attempt disturbing their lay by moving them to the boys' shared bedroom, so he had instead stayed put, intent on waiting it out for a bit until sleep deepened enough for the action to be taken without repercussions.

Truth be told, it gave him an odd strain of happiness to have a baby nestled in the crook of his arms and a second child napping within his line of eyesight. It caused him to feel needed in a way that he never had really experienced before, but enjoyed.

For the time that he could, the blond reveled in the position, wistfully hoping that it wouldn't be long before the one he was holding onto sported hair of a different shade and a cast of some of his own features. This train of thought passed a few quiet minutes until the spell was broken by the opening of the library door, and the admittance of Asahina into the cozy space.

"Shinobu-kun, I apologize, but I took the liberty of alerting Miyagi-san that you were ready to be picked up," Asahina recited calmly from the doorway, "And given the time that's passed since I made the call, I believe he should be arriving momentarily. If you'd like to wait for him outside, we can say goodbye for today."

Shinobu nodded attentively, then inquiring, "Is Isaka-san done speaking with Usami-san?"

"I believe so." The reply was tactfully short, leaving Takatsuki to fill in the blanks of his own accord. He'd receive no further details out of this elder; it simply wasn't in his nature to disclose information as freely as his spouse might do on occasion. "He should be waiting to send you off at the door."

"I appreciate it," Shinobu emphasized, gingerly rising and handing over Kichirou to his father. "Oh, the kids fell asleep about ten minutes ago, for what it's worth."

"Thank you. I'll make sure that they get tucked in." Asahina inclined his head in acknowledgement, which also allowed Takatsuki the permission to depart.

Striding through to the front hallway of the home, he was piecing his final thoughts together when his friend materialized from one of the side doors and into the same dominion as he. The two converged near the main exit. Before the boy could begin to articulate his goal for the day, he was stymied by an utterance from Isaka instead.

"Yeah, so, I'm sorry about all that crap getting aired while you were here, Shinobu-tan. I couldn't really just shut my mouth though; it burns me up inside that Haruhiko isn't doing jack to assert himself in this situation. After all, if gods forbid I was him, I'd be taking the other guy down to hell with me if necessary to get back at them for what they did to me! ...Anyway, I kind of figure this stuff wasn't what you came over for, so, was there anything important we didn't get to today?" Isaka leaned against the wall of the entry, archly crossing both arms over his chest.

Shinobu surveyed his elder and took a gauge of the mood. Maybe neither of them were in the best humor, but, there wasn't a lot of time before the wedding to ask what he wanted to ask. Also, the primary reason for giving the man advanced notice was so that things could be dealt with at work in order for him to attend. Might as well put the idea out there and see what happened.

Threading his words carefully, the blond eventually was able to proceed. "I visited because I wanted to know if you'd consider giving me away when I get married. I think we both can agree that my father isn't going to participate, and I don't have anyone else to do it. That, and, it'd be dual purpose job because I would require a best man, also. That's what I wanted to ask about today."

Isaka let slip a tiny smirk, an expression that brought the youth some relief. "Oh? And when is this glorious event taking place? And, better question, does the groom _know_ it is taking place?"

"He will show up," Shinobu deadpanned, "one way or the other. It's going to be next month, on the second."

"So soon! Where are you having it then, on such short notice?"

"The chapel in the old district. Neither Miyagi or I care too much that the ceremony is fancy. Actually the quieter, the better. It's more vital to me that it happens at all than any of the specific details being grand."

"Well, color me surprised at the timeline, but I'm happy for you, kid. Gonna grow up and join the married crowd, I see. It's not so bad once you get used to it. Of course there's no turning back at that point. So if you're having any doubts about any of this, run, now."

"Absolutely not," Shinobu emphasized, voice void of emotion.

"Perfect. Then in that case, I happily accept the job!" The imp flashed a true grin, reaching outward and patting the boy on the shoulder fondly.

"I would suggest having a bachelor party but I am betting that you would spend those hours digging me a grave. So I'll settle for a fun wedding gift instead. Anyhow, expect us to be there supporting you. Now that that fear's put to rest, I think your fair maiden might have arrived outside, Shinobu-tan. So have a good night!"

After echoing some semblance of a parting to his friend, the youth shuffled his way out the front door of the house and toward the driveway where, eerily enough, a familiar car was parked in waiting.

Frankly, at that juncture, Shinobu was just glad to see Miyagi's face again because it imbued in him the calm that he sorely lacked after the past hour.

For whatever success he'd had with what he'd come to ask, there had been a lot that happened at Isaka's house that he wished he hadn't been party to.

But, after hearing the dramatics of someone else's situation, it did leave him relieved at the smooth trajectory of his own relationship. Though they had only been "together" for a short amount of time, they'd truly been connected for much longer than that, and Shinobu had no qualms that he'd ever find himself in a situation like Usami's. He wasn't like that and neither was Miyagi.

"Ready to go home?"

Shinobu silently inclined his head in assent before nestling into the comfortable seat, cheek pressing into the cool expanse of the window as he did so. Before he drifted off to a much-needed nap, he could have sworn he felt the light sweep of fingers ghosting over his hand.

It was a touch he hoped never to lose.

**END CHAPTER.**


	20. For The Long Haul

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters/Pairings: Egoist [first section]; Trifecta [second section].

* * *

  **. . . EGOIST . . .  
**

(September 5th, 2012)

* * *

Hiroki surreptitiously peeked out through the window at the other man who was so cheerfully interacting with the household staff. Boxes of belongings were transported about, as their moving day had finally dawned.

He couldn't believe what he was getting himself into, but Nowaki seemed happy about the change, so at least that made one of them.

Kamijou wasn't sure if it was because he'd spent most of his grown-up life inside the capitol, but settling outside of the city limits, even not by very much, felt daring. He could also chalk some of his anxiety up to the fact that, by making this change, he was, as people tended to term it, "settling down." Already, he inexplicably found himself engaged in some form of relationship, despite his lack of willingness to set a label on that bond, and now he and his someone would be sharing living quarters. Yes, that was definitely an abundance of new changes to adjust to. The erudite young noble didn't know exactly how he would handle them all.

With each book he put away it felt more and more permanent. This was not some vacation nor was it him helping someone else move. Each book he was placing meticulously onto the shelves belonged to him and had been a part of his life for years. Hiroki started to shiver involuntarily at the prospect that once he finished this box, he'd be completely finished with moving, and that actually scared him. He needed a break or he'd fall victim to a nervous collapse.

Slowly, he turned away from the remaining books and walked over to the sofa, where he sat down in the corner. The professor wasn't much for change, especially such a big one. Somewhere in the house was the reason for the change and while it made him happy to know that Nowaki was all smiles, it made him feel a little bit small that he wasn't sharing in the other's joy.

Speak of the devil - said jovial individual bounded into the room with his own box of books and smiled brightly at his Hiro-san sitting on the sofa. Nowaki knew that the love of his life was going to take a little bit longer getting used to such a move, but he was there to help him along the way. He set the box of books down near Hiroki's remaining pile, and waltzed over to the sofa, where he sat down a good two feet from the object of his affections.

"You're almost done, Hiro-san," Nowaki stated softly.

"Um," Hiroki nodded, barely speaking. He could feel his body tense up slightly but it didn't move away.

"Soon there will be nothing left for us to unpack and we can start our life together," the raven-haired giant mused, face gleaming as a candle in the dark.

"Um." Kamijou didn't know if he could even speak properly at that moment, so he paused rather than continue and sound out of sorts.

"Hiro-san," Nowaki said sternly, "I know that you're scared, but I am here with you, so you don't have to go through anything alone ever again."

The elder rolled his eyes and snorted. That boy could be so cheesy at times. "I know that, idiot. I can see you sitting next to me, so it's obvious I'm not alone."

Nowaki inched closer and pulled Hiroki's hands in his own. "I am so incredibly happy, Hiro-san," the other emphasized, gaze soft and honest as he stared intensely into Hiroki's own nervous sienna cast. "Happy that we are able to share more and more now, and that I will be able to see you every day, living together."

The confession caused Kamijou to break out into goosebumps and he started to shiver again, only this time from the proximity of his taller companion. He tried to duck his head, but was thwarted when Nowaki pulled him into a hug where he felt his heart about to stampede through his chest. They stayed like that long enough for Hiroki to feel that Nowaki's heart was also pulsating rather fast too. That fervid rhythm had the oppositional effect of calming him. Soon he fell into a lethargic state and allowed his boyfriend to maneuver them so they were cuddled up on the sofa together.

"I'm never going to let you go, Hiro-san," Nowaki breathed into Hiroki's ear huskily, "We can stay like this forever and I'd die happy."

There went another corny line, but the sienna-eyed man wasn't going to let it bother him since in that moment he too could have happily stayed. He reached over and started to trace Nowaki's shirt pocket, only to have his hand caught by the other. In embarrassment, he tried to sit up and move away, but he was again caught in the other's trap as sensuous lips found his own and a heated kiss emerged like a butterfly from a cocoon.

Nowaki moaned into the kiss as his tongue entered Hiroki's mouth and he felt the other out. How he'd longed to taste his Hiro-san more and more. The professor was an addiction he wasn't ever going to cure himself of because there was no better addiction out there.

He would have had no qualms with continuing the current bit of fun had a knock not then resounded in the room causing both to fall away from one another, gasping for breath and attempting to smooth out their slightly wrinkled attire.

"Come in," Hiroki barked unintentionally. The door opened and the butler made his presence known by a stiff bow.

"Yes?" Nowaki asked.

The man turned toward Hiroki and spoke. "Kamijou-sama, I am sorry to interrupt your free hours, but you have a visitor. It is a reporter with The Capitol Review if you will accept the intrusion. He says that he has a matter to discuss with you concerning a story soon to be published about his highness the Crown Prince."

Hiroki frowned at the pronouncement.

One thing was certain. Nothing good could be coming out of a situation like that, and secondly, it would ruin any chance of relaxation if it turned out to be a big issue. With Akihiko, though, it could not fail to be major. Actually, Hiroki was more or less certain of what had happened, he just needed to speak with the newspaper to see if there was any way to get them to hold off printing an article about what they might have uncovered.

"I'll speak to him here, thank you."

Cerulean irises caught his attention, their wearer even more so. "I think I'll go for a walk, Hiro-san, and come back in a while. I have a feeling this is something that isn't any of my business." Nowaki rose peaceably from the lounge without any further explanation, and the elder began to contemplate his plan as far as this session would be concerned.

Moments later the educator stood as the aforementioned reporter was admitted into the parlor, quietly assessing for a true first impression of the man.

Sumi Keiichi presented himself as a tall young man with hazelnut eyes framed by a sharp pair of lenses, and storm-cloud hued hair. The eyes in question failed, however, to mask his impish disposition. From the very instant that Kamijou set eyes on him, he knew he was correct in imagining the other was a bit less than an innocent storyteller. No, he was a person to be wary around. The sort of person the professor didn't relish coming into contact with.

"Sumi-sama," Hiroki greeted testily, utilizing the overtly polite way of addressing the journalist. From what experience he had had with such people, the workers tended to feel they were more clever than they actually were. Thus, if one was to flatter their vanity a little, they might become more malleable to deal with.

"Oh, Kamijou-sama, there's no need for that level of formality," the man grinned asininely, "after all, my father is still alive and well! I haven't inherited his title."

"Neither have I, from my father."

"Shall I dispense with the title too, then? Though, I knew already. Your father was a brilliant man during his career."

"No," the brunette declined, turning abruptly to seat himself back on the sofa, eyes for a moment leaving the visitor.

He could already feel a headache coming on and this 'interview' had barely even begun. It was not going to be something pleasant, dissecting the sweetened words that expelled from Sumi's trap into what was genuine and what was merely baiting.

When both men had accustomed to the arrangement in the living room, the gray-haired withdrew a notepad from his carrying bag along with a pen, preparing to dictate their back-and-forth. Hiroki made the choice to wait rather than lead in the talking. He'd first feel out precisely what Sumi wanted out of him, information wise, and then come up with some way to turn it the direction he needed it to go. There wasn't much damage control he could reasonably do, but he would try.

It was still somewhat his job, although the occasions he'd actually given advice to the prince were few and far in between these days. More often, he was left alone to pursue teaching. Odd, but perhaps it was a good development in the end. That's what he'd wanted to do from the beginning, after all. The former career was one he had accepted for the desire to stay close to Akihiko. Now that there were other changes in his personal life it wasn't much of a reason anymore.

None too recently, he'd had the misfortune to learn that Akihiko's affair had finally blown up in the faces of everyone involved. As if that wasn't sordid enough on its own, the press apparently had caught wind and were likely chomping at the bit to get a story out about it. It was times like these that Kamijou desperately wished his old friend had a pinch more discretion. You couldn't be the next leader of a country and not have thousands of scrutinous lenses aimed upon you, watching for any missteps.

Though, frankly, he recognized that none of that mattered to Usami. Such conceptions never had.

Settling in easily to his perch, the fledgling reporter made his primary foray into the dramatic tale. "As his highness' good friend, among other things, I am certain you're the best source to ask about this matter, Kamijou-sama. For precisely how long have you known that the prince was pursuing his brother's fiancé in an amorous manner?"

"You're wrong to assume that I know information of that nature, or that such an event has even taken place."

"So stern... The funny thing is, I _am_ certain. I believe if I showed you my research, you'd even have to agree it was thorough, Kamijou-sama!"

Keiichi laughed heartily, tapping the notepad against his knee. His ever-present expression challenged the crumbling limits of the brunette's temper, as if egging him on to spill over. Hiroki wasn't about to give the brat the satisfaction, though. Sumi could stand to learn to respect his elders a bit more than he was conducting himself now.

"I had this hunch a long time ago. Well, that is, around the very end of May. Our future king was never a fellow to traipse out of the palace. Rather like his noble mother, may she rest in peace! It's a shame, truthfully, as the country would like to know him better, but I'm sure he has his reasons for rarely showing his face to the public. However, around that time, he begins making visits outside of home, and all to the same neighborhood. I couldn't help but take notice of that pattern."

"Of course you did," the elder growled lowly, "but I fail to see how you're proving anything off of those shoddy facts."

" _Tut, tut_. I work very hard on my stories, Kamijou-sama, and I would never put one out if it didn't have more bite to it. For example! I have a picture of his highness out with a certain young man at the amusement park, as well as a picture of the particular residence he seems to frequently spend time at. Even more than that, I had this fascinating run-in with the boy himself! At the palace, in case you were curious, very near to the wing where Akihiko oji-sama lives. Takahashi-kun claimed to be there for the royal library, but, well, he didn't quite convince me of that excuse. The boy isn't suited for lying."

Composing his facial features, the brunette steamed inwardly at the procession of evidence.

He had a fair idea of how deeply Akihiko's intent ran, but it would seem that the man had been utterly careless in execution. Visiting the other brother's home on a regular basis? Trotting the brat around a public place? Even if those occurrences didn't in of themselves paint a picture of adultery, they would beg questions about why the prince had taken it upon himself to be so cordial to the future spouse of the half sibling whom he had always loathed. Because that sort of behavior didn't make sense, especially when combined with the royal's own personality. Akihiko was far from the sort of friendly soul who could look past the tension with his elder brother to make the Takahashi boy welcome in the family.

"Is there any particular reason you feel so compelled to try and make up stories about the prince?" Hiroki queried seriously. If it was something silly as far as monetary drive, perhaps the reporter could be paid off to forget about publishing his article. It was a last ditch effort on his part, but something that might work if the young man were amenable.

"I am compelled to share Akihiko oji-sama with the world because he is someone who fascinates me." The geminate hazelnuts visibly lit up while the owner continued in his way of explanation, a sly camber to the thin lips as Sumi spoke.

"Apart from being our next king, he is someone whom I see as taking what he wants in life, which is so rare a trait to find in people. We are always seemingly taught to help others before helping ourselves; it's intriguing how he differs in that area. _I like it_. I suppose there is also the fact that he is able to write books worthy of others' praise in large quantity. I confess, I myself find the novels a tad trite and boring, but all the same, you must respect talent that the majority of the population recognizes."

Or, it would seem his strategy was futile, Hiroki mused, if what the youth said was his primal logic.

"I appreciate your efforts, Kamijou-sama. You truly do try to do your job to the bitter end, but I have to request that we be honest with one another. I know and you also know that our prince has committed these acts. The news is the news, it is bound to come out at some point. I like to have my fun but I'm not a villain; I won't be writing anything that isn't included in the true facts of the story. All I need from you is cooperation, and one final bit I haven't been able to suss on my own. That is, do you think that Takahashi-kun loves Akihiko-oji in return? Will this be a happy ending, or, not so much?"

For the life of him Hiroki didn't know if he could even begin to answer that question, since he himself didn't know what the brat was thinking.

It was most likely that the punk _wasn't_ thinking and the only one who was in his right, albeit inappropriate, mind was Akihiko. While he wasn't sure if the kid had any genuine affections for the younger Usami brother, he was sure the kid had feelings for the elder until the prince had commandeered him off into the twilight zone. Hiroki felt sorry for Haruhiko in that he was sure the man was deeply attached to Misaki and he knew full well how he had found out about his fiancé and brother having an affair. It wasn't pretty.

"I don't know," he answered truthfully. "This is all I am willing to say on the matter." That indicated his finality and he nodded, indicating the other male should take his leave.

"Thank you, Kamijou-sama," Keiichi replied smoothly. "I know it probably hasn't been easy for you to deal with such a scandal."

At the word scandal, Hiroki cringed. That's what it was and it was likelier than not that the man would end up printing the story. Freedom of the press was encouraged, after all, even if the press had it wrong. Sadly, what Sumi had was spot on. Trying to deny anything would be futile.

"Hiro-san?"

The two men in the room turned to see Nowaki enter and nod his respects to the reporter. Nowaki then padded over to where Hiroki was seated and sat down next to him.

Sumi could feel the bond between the two like it was palpable. That, his curiosity was piqued by, even if it was a mild category of wondering. Throughout his twenty-odd years on the planet, Keiichi couldn't say that he'd met up with too many people who had a love that seemed genuine, and to see such was enlightening. Despite being on his way out from the interview, he found himself deciding to transfer his internal questioning into speech.

"Are you two getting married, or something?"

Dark eyes glimmered with keen interest, and Hiroki looked scathingly at the pest before turning his stare on the other youth in the room. The expression he found there was equally disconcerting, but for a different reason. Pink color had dawned high on Nowaki's cheekbones, and the man was seemingly fighting a smile; a tableau that had Kamijou's heart racing from unknown intent.

' _What the hell?_ '

"No, we aren't," the raven responded calmly, face slowly draining back to a neutral state.

"Look," Hiroki supplied tersely, "I can't force you not to put out that story, but leave my private life out of your paper... or things will become very unpleasant for you, Sumi-kun. Do we understand each other?"

"Crystal," the younger man chimed, tone a bit too jovial to be appropriate for the moment. "Don't even concern yourself about it either, Kamijou-sama. I'm not interested in what you do. Bigger fish out there to fry, and all. Consider any enthusiasm I'm showing say... journalistic conditioning, nothing more. Either way, I must bid you both adieu."

"Please hurry up and do."

**. . . . .**

Apart from the upset that had been the interview earlier in the day, the first twelve or so hours of being moved in together had progressed smoothly. Most of the time had been devoted to setting up their combined belongings within the house, and, even if mundane, it had been a restful period for both males. There was something in the task of gathering everything in its proper place that was soothing to the soul. It gave life a sense of order that extended to their very mood.

Dinner had been eaten at some point, and a break had been taken after that for both to wind down. It wasn't until the later evening when the second conflict came into play, and when it turned up, it hit at least Kamijou like a train. All this time when he had been going along with the plans of living together, he hadn't given any thought to the sum of that arrangement. Sharing a house was a given, but did this also mean sharing a single bedroom?

He could try to infer from the confessions he had been given before that it might, if Nowaki wasn't being over-exuberant in declaring his love for him. But inferring wasn't being certain, and being uncertain wasn't something Hiroki particularly cared for, as feelings went. One way or another, he would have to have some clarification on the matter. Bluntly putting the man to the question wasn't viable; he'd need to try a different strategy.

That was how he decided upon retiring early, so as to be first to head off for the night. If the giant trailed after him to the same room, then his queries could be answered without any risk of him actually needing to ask them aloud.

Enacting said plan proved simple, and he slipped off to his chosen sleeping quarters to change into pajamas for the night.

Mere minutes later, Kamijou was doing so in the space of the walk-in closet when he heard the door creaking open in the other room and footsteps treading lightly into the dimly-lit environment.

As soon as he heard that, his pulse gained a new, more fervid rhythm. He certainly hadn't been left waiting and wondering for too long, but he had had his doubts. After all, earlier on, Nowaki had been storing away his clothes and other essentials in the bedroom next door, not in here with Kamijou's wardrobe. Apparently that had been for another reason than he'd previously thought.

Just as he finished pulling the shirt over his head and smoothing it down, one dark head popped into the doorway of the closet area, beaming intently. Hiroki looked up with a blank expression, as if he _hadn't_ been straining his ears this entire time, and watched as the younger completed the walk up to him.

"Good night, Hiro-san," the raven imparted, tipping forward to leave a chaste kiss on the elder's lips.

A part of Hiroki wanted to roll his eyes at the behavior being showcased in that moment. If that was the case, he could probably expect being accosted for "good morning" or "welcome home" affections on a daily basis. Nowaki was that sort of person if he gave it much thought. The other part of him might have felt a little more benevolently than he'd outwardly admit.

Shaking everything off, the brunette proceeded into the main room and over to the bed, claiming his side from the outset. Resting on his side, Hiroki waited for everything else to fall into place, as he full well expected it to.

The awful truth was that, now that they were in this situation of being around each other so often, Kamijou had started to have certain... inclinations. To phrase it succinctly, it had been a long time since the last occasion that he'd been intimate with anyone, and the length of that celibate span was grating. Combine that with the odd, innocent displays of affection he received from his now housemate, and he wanted to delve a little deeper than they thus far had.

Nowaki watched appraisingly as the elder settled into the bed, pondering whether he was going to be allowed in. If he could, that would make him delighted, as the idea of being able to have Hiro-san as the first thing he saw in the morning seemed too sweet to resist.

The man had clearly demarcated one side of the bed as his own, leaving plenty of room for himself, if that was the case. The medical student eventually came to the conclusion that the worst outcome that could transpire would be the other kicking him out. Even that wouldn't sting too much, so he was leaning towards going for what he wanted.

Cautiously approaching the area, he lifted the several layers of covers and eased beneath the cool linens with the pace of someone trying to tame a feral beast. Hiro-san was no such thing, of course, but, nonetheless, caution wasn't ill-advised. Nowaki's heart thumped encouragingly as he stretched out on his side, scarcely able to believe it was turning out without a single hitch. Could it be that Hiro-san had been on the same wavelength about this issue as him?

Whatever the case, he could sleep soundly now.

Silence gripped the darkened quarters for the expanse of ten or so minutes, both occupants' minds turned to a different page of thought. Where one was content to try and welcome sleep sand to be cast over his eyes, the other male was starkly alert.

Hiroki was bamboozled by the non-activity that had dawned ever since Nowaki slid into bed behind him. Wasn't that action indicative of _some_ form of carnal desire within the youth? Where then was the sly hand claiming a spot at his waist, the lips poised against the nape of his neck that he had, embarrassingly enough, imagined at one point? Was the idiot really attempting to fall into slumber after nothing more than a simple kiss bestowed on him earlier?

It was true that Kamijou hadn't been _open_ about what his ideas were, but this seemed a fairly typical situation. They had been around each other for months, and that entire time Nowaki had wanted to court him, so feelings weren't a brand new development on that end.

Recently Hiroki had even begun to consider the relationship in a serious vein, regardless of how forthcoming he was about that to the raven himself. He had began to think of the idea of being close to the Kusama heir and that conception had actually drawn a pleasant reaction. He was trying, so this was chiefly why he didn't understand that nothing was happening now. It was almost cliché in a way; a couple finally moves in together and allows their passion to take flight. But apparently Nowaki hadn't viewed the same media he had!

The brunette huffed, coordinating a quick scheme in mind. So long as he didn't have to make himself painfully obvious, he thought that he could carry it out. And if all succeeded, there'd be nothing left to worry about in that department anymore.

Still, that didn't mean he wasn't anxious as all get out, and it definitely rang in the tone of his voice. Gathering what little determination he could muster, Hiroki rallied with, "Nowaki..." The name gently wormed its way into the quiet air of the bedroom, and he could only hope that the man had not passed out already, without his notice.

"Yes?"

"...I'm cold."

He reposed on his back in the bed, secretively glancing out of the corner of his eye to catch the raven's reaction. The youth had a tender smile lighting up the whole of his face, one that only elevated the professor's anxiety/anticipation cocktail. Hiroki felt certain that this time, this time he had unlocked the proper response from the other. With an adoring face like that, surely the next step would be...?

"I'll get you another blanket, Hiro-san," the giant promised, making as if to rise from the bed. Internally, Kamijou kept a leash on himself to prevent what he wanted to really do - place a palm against his forehead. That definitely wasn't what he had wanted out of saying that. Still, the brat was slippery, and soon evacuated the area in hunt of the supposed extra cover that he required.

An interminable amount of time later, Hiroki was frowning in the dark under the weight of an additional blanket. Nowaki was laying, apparently unperturbed, beside him. In fact, the kid seemed about ready to lose consciousness, which meant Kamijou was about to lose any chance at executing his earlier plan. That wasn't going to be permitted to happen. He knew that if he let it go now, it would be a long while until he could work up the gall to try again.

Putting his mind to the quandary, the elder soon compromised on what seemed like his best option. Shutting his eyes to halve the embarrassment, Kamijou inched closer to the warm body laying adjacent and reached, laying one hand on the raven's clothed thigh. If this didn't work, he was really going to have to wonder what was so wrong in his method that he couldn't get his desires across.

Nowaki's eyes fluttered gently open and closed as he soaked in the new and beautiful experience of his Hiro-san touching his leg, even in a mild way.

It made his heart leap to know that he was on the other's mind enough for the man to want to reach out to him when normally Hiro-san was insurmountably shy. He almost didn't want to breathe or move at all, wary of upsetting whatever mood the elder was in to be taking initiative. So he lay there, inert, brimming with repressed enthusiasm - and a little of the other type of excitement - as purposeful fingers stroked against the inside of his leg, just above the knee.

Said elder was nearly ready to keel over with embarrassment as he continued in the act; couldn't the big lug take a hint when it was given and make a move? Was he really going to have to be so direct to get the other started? Phase one of the plan had failed already; Nowaki misinterpreting his words in an innocent manner, and now it was on to phase two, giving a little in the hopes of inspiring Nowaki to shoot for a mile.

Sighing silently to himself, Hiroki decided, once more, to increase the ante. Specifically, he trailed his roaming hand upward and squeezed at the flesh at the innermost place on the other's thigh, paying the most attention therein.

As the hand traveled upward, however, Nowaki began to realize something that made him falter. If Hiro-san was going to continue to do that, then it wouldn't be very long - no, that was generous, since it was already beginning - he would embarrass himself involuntarily. In short, he was already getting a little hot under the collar, and, being the sort of person that he was, Nowaki didn't want to push for anything he wasn't certain his most important person wanted. So, acting logically, he decided to remove himself from the precarious situation.

He very quickly bolted up in bed and scooted toward the edge, intending to hole up in the bathroom to splash some water on his face and try to cool off both his rebellious mind and body before returning to sleep.

**. . . . .**

One rather humiliated professor was sitting up in bed, forced to ponder over if he'd somehow mucked up everything with a single stupid move.

Was he someone that was good enough for kissing, but not any actions more than that? The younger had claimed to be in love with him, but was that love different than what Kamijou had interpreted it as in the beginning? Could it be that what Nowaki felt for him was a more chaste love, that of a treasured companion, but without any ardency stewing beneath the surface? And, even more than those considerations, if it was different, why wouldn't the brat have come out and said as much, rather than lead him to believe in the typical?

After calming his senses, Hiroki went looking for the other.

If he really was only going to be good enough for some things and not others, then it was best to nip this in the bud before they, he, got in too deep. He wasn't exactly good at conveying his feelings at times, but there was no way he could just be someone who was only good for part of a physical relationship. He'd already lost out on one such relationship when Usami told him no, so to be given a piece of the forbidden fruit and know he'd never get to eat the whole thing wasn't something he could handle.

Nowaki was seated on the edge of the bath with his head in his hands. He could see his cock still bulging in his pants. Cold water hadn't done a thing to get the damn thing to go down, and he was in the process of getting his head around jacking off so he didn't scare Hiro-san when he went back into the bedroom. How could one man be so tantalizing yet off-limits? The future doctor wasn't quite sure how that worked out.

For the second time that day, a knock brought the blue-eyed man back to his senses. It had to have been his lover, but for the first time in his life he was afraid of answering the door, especially since a significant part of him was still not satisfied with the prior turn of events.

"Yes?" he asked hesitantly.

"Can I come in?" The voice on the other side of the door didn't sound mad or disgusted, which made the man breathe easier.

"Yes, come in, Hiro-san."

The door opened and admitted the tsundere. Nowaki felt his heartbeat speed up when he saw the man looking lost. He'd been the cause of that and it was he who had to fix the issue.

"Listen Nowaki..." Hiroki started, but was stopped when Nowaki bounded across the room and placed a finger to his lips.

"Let me speak, Hiro-san, please," he plead. Kamijou nodded, brown bangs falling into his eyes ever so slightly and making him look even more guarded than usual.

"I'm sorry about that, but your touching elicited some inappropriate responses from my body," Nowaki began just letting the information spill out without even stopping for a breath. "I want nothing more than to take you back to that room and make love with you all night long, but we can't do that yet because we're not married...and...I must wait till I'm married before giving myself to the one I love as a sign of respect for that person. I am sorry that your innocent touches made me into such a..."

This time it was Hiroki who put his finger to Nowaki's lips. Of all the ridiculous things he'd heard the oaf spout, this was definitely taking the cake. If he'd opened up about his beliefs before, then no one would have been as embarrassed as he was of that point. The idiot was holding out because he wanted to give himself to his husband, not before. Obviously they really needed to talk if that was the case.

"Nowaki, I am sorry," he stammered trying to find the right words, "I was trying to get you to..." No. He couldn't get it out.

"That wasn't...?" Nowaki was also at a loss and the idea that he knew that his Hiro-san wanted to couple with him just about caused him to shoot his load off.

"Yes, I want you, you big moron," Hiroki hissed. Despite his embarrassment, his body didn't seem to feel the same. Rather, as he confessed that, the arousal he was imbued with heightened. "Don't make me say that again, ever."

Kusama laughed slightly and wiped a tear from his eye. "I am sorry that I can't give you that right now, Hiro-san," he said dejectedly, even though he wanted to laugh to make the situation go away. "I don't want to waste all of my holding off, even if I know that I am going to marry and let you be my first."

Hiroki shook his head, face turning beet red at the innocent virgin who was standing in front of him. Never in his life did he think that someone would care for him that much as to want to wait until a wedding night. He couldn't even join in on that since he'd given his up years before.

"It's okay," he stated, quietly, "We can wait."

Kamijou missed the beam that Nowaki threw out as he was pulled into a bone-crushing hug. He felt his own need rub against his black-haired lover and it made him moan and bend over slightly. They were both ready to explode, he could feel it. Nowaki may have been wanting to hold intercourse off till marriage, but they could still do something sensual together, even if it meant he had to take the lead.

"Let me show you something we can do for one another then," he said. "I know you want to wait, but this is not the same way of coming together, so it should work out in both our favors."

The giant's eyes rose as he tried to figure out what the elder was getting at. He allowed himself to be pulled back to the bedroom, even though it was rather difficult to walk. Once behind the safety of their own door he watched as Hiroki started to undress himself. He could see the other's cock standing at attention once free from the confines of the pajamas. His own shot even more to life than it had before.

"Hiro-san," Nowaki began, lost due to his lack of knowledge.

"It's okay," the professor reassured. "We won't go all the way."

Nowaki nodded. "It's just that... I apologize... I have never done anything like this before."

Kamijou's expression faltered at the quiet statement. It wasn't one of embarrassment, more matter of fact sounding in reality, but he was the one who was surprised at it. Not that such innocence was impossible, but Hiroki guessed he had assumed there had been at least some experience that had come before him. Nowaki was always so straightforward and confident in his words and actions concerning their relationship that it was hard to believe otherwise. But, maybe that was just the guy's personality after all, and nothing else.

Not wanting to beleaguer the point for either of their sakes, he nodded minutely and placed a hand on the raven's shoulder as he steadied his position.

Hiroki soon found himself ensnared into a tender hold, Kusama's arms embracing his entire frame warmly. Sensing the heated planes of the other's body on his own was inspiriting and relieving all the same. He winded up thinking the thought to himself that he wouldn't mind very much if this became a more permanent sensation in life. He didn't want to part with the way his mind felt content when he was near Nowaki, not ever.

Hands traveled of their own accord, running down the sides of the younger's broad chest, stirring the senses and causing his focus to be all upon the elder's movements. Hiroki gathered his drive and considered how best to facilitate this all, if indeed he was going to have to be director on this occasion. Just how innocent was the boy, after all? As beautiful blue irises watched him in rapture, he had to suppose, very.

"Go and lay on the bed," he murmured quietly, a mild ruddy tint to his face.

He waited for the instructions to be followed, and then edged closer to the mattress, surveying the unreasonably enticing body perched upon it. But, he couldn't allow himself to back out now, so Hiroki went through with the gamble and staked his place, mounting the giant's most wanting area and watching those eyes widen in a spectacular thrill.

Nowaki, for what it was worth, wouldn't have been able to form a cohesive sentence at that moment to describe what he was feeling. The vision that was his lover hovering over him in all his unveiled glory was nearly too erotic to bear; the personified fodder of the desires he'd been experiencing for the last few months. Hiro-san was truly a handsome being, someone made that much more by the simple fact that they weren't aware of the attraction they held for others.

Sitting up when he could no longer wait, Kusama kissed his charming tsundere, artfully prying the man's lips open with his tongue.

The two connected heatedly, arms maneuvering to keep them both balanced as each tried their best to devour the other whole. The simple exchange was exhilarating, the various stimuli quickening - the feel of his lover's tongue twisting around his own in a fervid dance, the silky smooth press of the other's inflamed length grinding against the bulge of his own. His entire body soon crackled with electricity.

A wave of curiosity soon engulfed the younger, and his attentions migrated with a hand encasing both stiffened cocks, sliding them together within the palm of his hand. It was hard to say what was more arousing, the simple notion of Hiro-san being this worked up by him, or the delightful sensation of the other's silky smooth prick jutting against his. Either way, something was rising in him and it was building quicker than Nowaki could even begin to fathom. A warmth pooling at the base of his spine that seemed to intensify with each breath.

It captured all of his focus.

Hiroki subtly arched into the hand stroking him, lips releasing an impassioned sigh with each brisk rub. The brat said that he didn't know what he was doing, but that apparently wasn't stopping him from trying. This sort of closeness was what he had envisioned for a while now, whatever that meant toward where he was on the scale of returning the raven's love. All he could reasonably say was that to finally be embraced filled him with a happiness that nearly bowled him over on the inside. He had done things in the past, but as far as doing them with passion in the act, he was inexperienced.

Kamijou steadied himself, finding the proper rhythm and gliding with the friction, not fighting the quaking sensations beginning to originate in his very center. His eyes narrowly peeked down at his other half, cheeks heating up as their gazes aligned properly. Blue eyes were glistening with some emotion while studying him, and at that he too thought he could feel the cadence of his heart beating against his chest.

"Nowaki..." he quietly imparted, at a loss of what more he was able to say at the time. Ducking down, he rested his upper half against the youth, body seeking the other's heat to cling to even in the act. Kamijou knew he was being a hopeless sap but he couldn't find it in his being to care right then.

The raven absolutely adored the sound of his name on the elder's tongue; just hearing that lit his soul on fire. Below, as the professor was creating enough waves for the both of them, Nowaki abandoned his direct hold in favor of caressing the man whom he felt consumed by.

Tracing digits across the plane of his back and slowly down the brunette's slender sides, his excitement began to overtake him. It was not long until he found the curiosity to shift his wandering hands lower, clutching at more suggestive areas and prying them apart for exploration.

Nowaki distractedly slid a single finger up and down, rubbing over the quivering opening and infusing the elder wild with anticipation. If Hiroki were more selfish, he would have done what he could to have that digit pierce him properly, but, tragically, he still had some control over his faculties over that point. Even if the sensations were teasingly divine.

"Don't... don't do that, if you're not going through with it," was the breathless statement he delivered, the elder reaching back and archly batting his hand away.

In that moment, the fog in Kusama's mind cleared some, and he recalled his earlier conviction.

It really just went to show the number that the the professor did on his brain, though. He couldn't deny how much he wanted to hold the man in his arms and make love with him, but the younger believed in the thought that it would be more special were they to save that experience for the day of their union. He would just have to make sure that that event came soon, sooner than Hiro-san maybe suspected it would.

"Just - just do something else!" the brunette hissed, lithely rolling his hips and rekindling the passion that was captured between them.

He let out a stark groan, pushing in more rampantly and drawing Nowaki along with him. It wasn't difficult to gauge they were both nearing the pinnacle, and he himself was angling for release. When the younger obediently took to his advice and changed his tactics, the heat in his belly tipped closer to boiling over.

Nowaki reclaimed a grip around his twitching cock, generously stroking the fervid organ with a sinful amount of pressure. Hiroki crumbled momentarily, lips trembling with the force of the voice he was keeping from turning loose.

His eyes flickered rapidly, one moment shut stubbornly and the next drinking in the sight of Nowaki's own saccharine, joyful expression. The younger's mouth hung open, a faint pant emitting as his body weathered the storm of their combined heat. It was a picture that made the brunette impossibly happy but at the same time, infused with a certain resolve.

He wasn't about to let himself be outdone by done by any brat, even if that same brat was the one who made him weak at the knees. Shifting from the way he'd coiled his frame before, the brunette altered, returning the favor with sharp, calculated tugs along the raven's own dripping protraction. His fingers girded the thick stalk tightly, striking up unimaginable incantations of pleasure as they dragged along each segment.

Seemingly in response, the palm caressing him so tenderly sped in its pursuit, racking him up even more inside. The sensation was mounting and for once the elder had no qualms in rising up to meet it.

**. . . . .**

"I love you, Hiro-san," Nowaki chanted mellifluously into the elder's ear. Pressing a small peck against the lobe before settling into the night, he perched his face in the groove between the man's shoulder and the side of his head. The spot was warm and comforting for the younger of the two, providing the snugness he had long since craved. Kusama didn't much care that he was treating the professor as a human body pillow at that moment; he suspected by the inertness of said individual, the tsundere didn't much mind, either.

"Mm," Hiroki vocalized noncommittally, aloud, feigning exhaustion.

Truthfully he wasn't sure if he would be able to sleep at all that night. Though tired from the various activities of the day, there was a burgeoning excitement that still resonated within him, derived from the neoteric steps taken in their bond. Such a thing only kept his mind active, alternately pensive over the future or simply trying to process the various stimuli.

All Kamijou could say was that despite any of his earlier behavior, he now found himself very close to answering that confession with words of his own.

 

* * *

  **. . . Trifecta . . .**

(June 23rd, 2012)

* * *

 

Sticky summer days were miserable no matter where one was at, but at least if you were at home, you could try to dispel the irritant with fans and cool beverages to a degree. Today was one such Saturday, and Yokozawa was up and pacing the halls, putting his mind to work on designing an activity to assuage his boredom.

Due to his touchy living situation, he had to admit he'd thrown himself into work overmuch lately, to the point where he was light years ahead of where his superiors required him to be, and there was not even a small task he could perform to pass the time. Most may have liked to relax on their days off, but that carefree attitude wasn't in the salesman's nature.

Speaking of work, and of people he encountered there, for the past month or so his closest contact had been absent. Takano had somehow mucked up his leg in a freak accident coming home one night, and had thus been recovering during the extended leave.

When he'd heard of it first, Yokozawa had been shocked, as might be expected of a calamity acutely involving the person he cared for. For all his concern though, he hadn't yet been granted permission to come and visit the man while he was resting, a fact which irritated the raven to no end. Because, not only was he unable to see for himself how Takano was faring, but he was also unable to gauge what effect his friend's living situation was having on Yokozawa's own prospects.

The incident had occurred whilst Takano was in the company of Onodera, after all, and some combination of facts had led to the latter feeling guilty enough to take charge of the chief editor's care. The two had more or less moved in together, sharing Onodera's apartment in the palace, and the close quarters didn't sit well with Yokozawa.

Masamune had never stated precisely why it was that the brunette had broken his heart all those years ago, but the underlying factor was that he had. Takafumi couldn't forgive a person for causing that pain and didn't comprehend why Takano was rebounding to the same individual now. Any normal person would have avoided someone who had been a source of such intense grief as he knew Masamune to have experienced in those earlier days. Or at least that was what he thought was the appropriate way of dealing with it.

All in all, life was more than a bit problematic for the salesman, and he didn't relish much out of it.

Perhaps the only good was that affairs had settled down in the Kirishima home for the time being. After the recent blow-up he'd wreaked on his supposed fiancé, the two had kept their distance from each other, reconvening mainly at meal time and when commuting to and from work. Nothing was settled, but they had drafted an unspoken truce until such a time as either one opened up a dialogue to talk about the issue of earlier. For now, it was... placid. Comfortable enough for what it was.

Yokozawa entered the kitchen and sought out the pitcher of lemon iced tea chilling in the refrigerator, pouring himself a stout glass of the libation.

His eyes closed in relief when he took the first sip, some of the heat already dissipating from his system. Even though he was safe inside from the scorching rays, there remained a sense of being cooked through that summer inevitably brought wherever one was. Now if only he could find something to entertain himself, the day could be passed in a reasonable manner.

Stalking down the hall to the living room, his ears perked to the mechanical sound of voices trailing from a television set. Still, this didn't deter Takafumi's course, and he marched onward. As he had surmised, he was not to be alone in the area, and would instead be sharing the space with the man he was in contention with.

The elder was sitting with his legs propped up on an ottoman in the middle of the room, seemingly unaware to the new presence in the doorway. Yokozawa surveyed the brunette for a moment, formulating in his mind how he was planning on acting.

It was a day they both had off, so presumably there wouldn't be any distractions. It might be the best chance of talking out their problems as they'd be able to glean in the near future. Even so, he wasn't exactly chomping at the bit to open that line of discussion because it would mean having to lay himself bare, emotionally, in front of the older male.

Takafumi had made up his mind to be honest and that meant he would have to talk about how it had felt to be caged into the situation he found himself dwelling in currently. The only confidence he had was that the man would at least _listen_ to his plight. That's the feeling he had got from the last time they'd talked. Kirishima had seemed genuinely confused about how Yokozawa was seeing everything.

However, he wasn't sure any amount of discussion would solve the feud between them.

Grudgingly, Yokozawa elected to be an adult and made his presence known. Seating himself next to the man on the sofa, his eyes glued to the activity on the screen before them.

For the moment a commercial was airing, and, uninterested in the cheery advertising, Zen was rifling through a magazine he'd snagged off the end table. With the unnatural pace he was turning over the pages, the raven could infer that he too was waiting for one of them to say something. And, disliking the stilted aura that existed in the quarters, he decided it was going to be him this time.

Peering secretly to the side, he glimpsed long-lashed, hazel eyes forcing their gaze down at the high-gloss article before turning back straight ahead.

"All right, listen up," the younger began, voice premiering as stern as he tried to set the baseline for the conversation. No more bowling him over was going to be allowed, if that strategy was on the elder's mind in any fashion. If he wanted Yokozawa to take him seriously, then the man needed to play by his rules first. "I'm willing to talk about this now if you are. It would be better if we could get it straightened out quickly."

"I agree, let's talk," Kirishima jumped at the opening. "I don't want you feeling like you can't live in this house if I'm here. Hiyo and I both want you here, and if I'm the cause for screwing things up, then let me know what _I_ can do to make it better." Abandoning his reading material, he shifted in his seat to better make eye contact with the now slightly ruffled man sitting beside him. It appeared he hadn't been expecting such an effusive response to his proclamation.

"...Let's just go back a bit," a gravelly voice directed, "to when it began. You never gave me a chance in the beginning to talk about getting engaged. It came as a complete shock. There was no precedent for it whatsoever, unless I'm missing a big part of what made it okay for you to go and decide that on your own. Why would you do that to me?"

He wasn't exaggerating either. Yokozawa had been genuinely confounded a month ago when the elder had made that request of him. Request being a loose term, as Kirishima had already gone behind his back to secure permission from the proper authorities, so asking Yokozawa had merely been a formality at that junction. Prior to that night, they'd had some semblance of a relationship; he couldn't deny it really.

Even before that night, it had all began with his being an idiot and getting carried away drinking the same day as he'd had his heart crushed into smithereens by Takano's rejection.

Onodera was back in the man's life and it was as if Takano had broke from his stupor of the past ten years and seen reason again.

Masamune had made his choice to try to win back his old fiancé, and that meant making his intentions clear with the salesman, who, after all, still clung to some vague hope that he could fill in the role instead. The chasm it'd carved out within him had been vast, but pouring alcohol in to fill the void had been an inane strategy. All it had done was catapult him into the care of the first guy he'd finagled into sitting with him at the bar to spill his woes to.

Something - the _hell_ if Takafumi knew what the man saw in him - had apparently had roused Zen's passion, and from there on out the elder had pursued him relentlessly, in his own sly manner. They'd had a few... run-ins... but it'd be far-fetched in Yokozawa's opinion to consider them in love. Some feelings might have existed there before he was caged, but Kirishima's impatience had crushed those before they'd had a chance to sort themselves out.

"Truthfully?" Zen heaved a large sigh, "I thought if I didn't, someone else would snatch you up first. You're more popular than you give yourself credit for, you know, and at that time, I was worried you might even get your heart's desire and get Takano back. I was terrified, because I knew what I wanted, but it was taking longer for you to warm up to me than I'd hoped. I just couldn't compete with a guy you'd loved for so long, not with the level I was at then."

The period of time Kirishima was talking about had been a particularly low point in the continuing saga between the adult Takano and Onodera. Given that the idiots carried on with their hearts on their sleeves most of the while, the office tended to be audience to the antics.

At that point, Onodera had been especially resistant to any advances that came his way, and it had perhaps seemed that Takano wouldn't have the option to win him back as he'd desired. Supposedly leaving the raven-haired editor available for Yokozawa, at least in Kirishima's convoluted mind. That of course, was stupid thinking.

Hell, even _Yokozawa_ had known it was impossible, much as he hated the fact! If it wasn't Onodera, it wasn't going to be anyone else. That was what he'd been told when he'd been essentially broken up with, and he had no cause to believe it wasn't true.

Right at that moment, a sharp buzzing took hold of the milieu, indicating that a call was coming through. Rather than to the home phone, Yokozawa realized by the vibration stemming from his pocket that it was his cell phone trying to catch his attention. He quickly complied, pulling out the device and holding it up to his ear.

"Hello?" he asked, guardedly, waiting for some indicator of who the caller was.

"You sound like your weekend's going well."

"Ah, Masamune." The salesman stood, falling into his habit of pacing as he continued with the dialogue. "Was there something you needed?"

"Nah, not really, I just figured you and I hadn't seen one another in a while. We're just getting back from the hospital today. I had a follow-up appointment to get my leg checked out and all that jazz." Yokozawa frowned at the vague mention of Onodera, but then chided himself internally for being so sensitive. There was no need for such tomfoolery on his part.

"Sorry for not getting back to you sooner, but it's been a bit hectic on my end. If you want to come over to visit, you can head out about an hour from now and I should be presentable, at least. "

"It's fine. So long as you keep up with your projects, it's no skin off my back."

The raven cleared his throat to ward off the intrusive sensation of hazel eyes boring into him and analyzing his conversation. His back stiffened unconsciously and he shifted, turning away from the scrutiny and facing the living room's portrait window. As the other began to speak, he watched the sun basking the greenery of the spacious garden in a spectacular golden hue.

"A month's a long while to keep someone on hold, though," Takano stated. And, though he wished he was above such sentimentality, the raven felt heartened by the apology.

"It's _fine_ ," he reiterated, "I know you weren't exactly at your best."

Watching the back-and-forth on the phone gave Zen a strange pit in the depths of his stomach. Beyond that sensation, he did have a little resentment that, for once, they seemed to be engaging in a talk that was headed somewhere positive and the talk was interrupted. That said disruption came from the source it did only made him greener.

He was versed enough to know the feelings Takafumi held for his long time cohort, and to understand that any chance of those being returned were less than zero. So to be party to Yokozawa wrestling with the bond as if the salesman didn't also know it was fruitless was aggravating; it gave him the worst sort of temper having to think about it.

Kirishima himself had seen what sort of a person the raven was, and that was someone with a good heart. He hadn't thus far been lucky enough to earn a place there, but elsewhere in life, it was tangible. For instance, no matter how much he was seemingly pissing Takafumi off with his antics, he had always been upstanding when interacting with Kirishima's little girl. Hiyo and the other got along like two peas in a pod. It was high amongst the reasons he felt so enamored by the man to begin with.

Selfishly, if he could isolate Yokozawa from any other competition, he had half a mind to do so. He wanted to be the lover that the gruff lordling deserved.

"I said, I'll be going out soon."

The words brought Zen back into his right frame of mind and he adjusted his gaze. Yokozawa sat back down on the sofa next to him, replacing his mobile into the pocket it had originally inhabited. For a few moments, the only noise was the muted background of the television, and both took a measure of each other, not really sure if a conversation was worth pursuing or not.

"Oi, what's with that face?" he then interjected, cerulean eyes narrowed.

Kirishima raised the magazine he had been flipping through prior to the phone call, amber eyes downcast; noble face at that time lacking a discernible response. He errantly turned over one page and then glanced up at Yokozawa again to answer.

By that time Yokozawa was fully suspicious and irked at what thoughts might have been whirling around in Kirishima's head. It was bad enough that the guy dared to sit in while he was talking to someone else - he didn't _get_ to have his own private little thoughts about what he heard. As far as Yokozawa was concerned, this entire engagement was a farce. Kirishima was petulantly hanging onto him either to mess with him or for selfish reasons when it was obvious that there was no-there could be no mutual... anything!

"Nothing."

' _Just realized how much he's messed you up,_ _Takafumi_ _..._ '

"Bullshit. You're brooding over something and I'll know what it is." Yokozawa had picked up his glass of iced tea, which he briefly nursed before shooting the elder a look that brooked no argument. Zen wasn't exactly on his best behavior in that moment, so he decided to be straightforward, even if doing so made him come off like a bit of a brat.

"I don't want you to go over there. I'd rather you stay home, with me. We didn't get to finish talking."

"Well, it isn't up to you," the raven answered dully. "I still have at least that much freedom, to go where I want to on my days off."

The editor hung his head for a moment, fuming. He couldn't decide whether or not it was selfish to want at least a little attention to be paid his way now and then. Maybe Yokozawa wasn't quite in love with him yet, but there was something between them, wasn't there? At times the longing for closeness began to gnaw at him to where he couldn't keep up the reserved facade he doggedly tried to employ in their dealings, at least until the time came where he didn't have to hold back any more.

At any rate, being passed over for that person again caused him to want to shatter Yokozawa's perceptions of the man, or at least to put them into question.

Kirishima knew some things that he was wholly certain that his fiancé was unaware of, and the magnitude of them was something that couldn't be ignored. It pissed him off that Takafumi didn't already know and that he was going to have to be the one to break the news, but at the same junction he couldn't not say anything. He didn't want to have secrets in their relationship.

"By the way, I'm curious," Zen tossed what he was reading aside and stretched out in his seat, head dropping lazily against the back of the couch. "Does Takano home-school his child, or something like that? Boarding school maybe? Because I was sure that the kid would be in the same grade as Hiyo-chan, but after ten years that theory hasn't panned out. I've never met them."

Yokozawa coughed, choking on the sip he'd carelessly taken as the elder had opened his mouth to speak. His eyes watered a little at the abrupt reaction, but he ignored that and gathered back his voice to oppose the barrage of so-called curiosity. "What the hell are you talking about? ...He has no kids. And definitely not any that are Hiyo's age, at that rate. He and I are the same age, idiot."

"You calling me old?" Hazel eyes peered sideways at him, their owner striking a mournful chord.

"Old _enough_ for your daughter," the raven growled, replacing his glass on the side table as it wasn't likely going to be availed of any time soon. "If Masamune had had a kid her age, he'd have to have been a teenager when the kid was born. I somehow doubt that. Whatever gave you that idea, you're wrong."

"But I met them, back in the day," Kirishima stated. "Well, I formally met Onodera, but when I was paying for the things we got for Hiyori's nursery that day, I noticed Takano looking around the same store. He was a teenager, yes, but he didn't look that much different than he does these days. I'm positive it was him."

Clutching at straws, figuratively speaking, Yokozawa shifted in his seat, gaping like a fish with no air.

The idea was only beginning to sink in, and yet it was going to hit him hard in the end, he could tell. The whole conception of Takano and Onodera being parents together was one that the raven couldn't abide, at least not in the state he was currently in. He also could hardly picture the ever-prickly Onodera willingly growing Masamune's child inside of him without raising hell toward the guy for putting him in that situation. It could be that the brunette was a different person when he was a teenager, but Yokozawa still couldn't imagine it all that well.

And if any of this phantasm was true, then why was it that he was hearing about it from _Kirishima_ of all goddamned people? Was that supposed to make sense to him?

Takafumi drew both his hands up to the side of his head, nudging at either temple and massaging the fiercely beating area. He took a moment to gather himself up before calmly stating, "You may as well explain yourself."

"This was before Hiyo-chan was born, when we were still pregnant with her. She was coming soon, and we knew she was a girl, so it wasn't too much before. Anyway, that day Sakura and I were heading to one of those parenting classes everyone believes they have to go to when it's their first kid so that they feel prepared. On the journey there, we stopped at this cutesy place where my wife had been buying up a bunch of baby clothes before. It was kind of a favorite of ours both for that sort of stuff, so we'd go in often just to see if anything caught our eye that we had to have.

"When we were there though, she got her sight set on this boy who was standing in the middle of the girl's section, looking at infant dresses. He seemed like he was by himself at first, which was odd. She thought he might've been getting something for a little sister, or cousin, so I saw her walk up to him and say as much. It turned out that he was the one expecting, though, young as he was."

The elder raised one caramel eyebrow, shooting Yokozawa a look of puzzlement.

"...I'm surprised you don't know any of this, actually." Was the explanation for said expression, the response tinged with a hint of annoyance. Not toward him, really, the younger could discern, but more toward his companion. Kirishima had no conception of which affairs were his business to meddle in, and so he went ahead and formed opinions like these to compound his jealousy.

Yokozawa glowered in his seat, his mind focused on stewing up the irritation he had formed at the line of conversation.

"How do I know you're not just dreaming this up in that head of yours? I think I'd know if any of this shit had actually occurred. You can spin a good story, and I'm not sure I'd hold it past you to try and fool me for your own gain."

"What benefit would it be for me to 'sell' you this particular story, though?" Kirishima countered archly.

"If Masamune were a father, he wouldn't seem that available. And if he'd lied to me about it..."

"That's utterly ridiculous; I don't need to be _nearly_ that underhanded!" Hazel eyes flashed with ire to match the snappish response and the elder turned to look him on properly. For the first time, Yokozawa shut up and paid a little attention due to the unquestionable gravity in the man's voice. It actually startled him in that moment.

"Even if that were a viable option, it doesn't suit logic because I have a child too! Trying to turn you off of someone for being a father would be ruining my own prospects at the same time, you know. I happen to think being one is more of a plus than it is a negative, and I think you won't disagree with me on that. I know for a fact that you adore Hiyo."

The raven's lips pursed. That much was hitting on truth, and the sudden roadblock to his argument had begun to make Yokozawa's head hurt more than it did already. He could barely remember how he'd thought it'd made sense in his head at the start, even if that took place only moments ago. Still, the whole story seemed far too coincidental to be real. Could the world really be that small?

"If you're not pulling one over on me, then are you sure that you're correct about it?"

"Of course I'm certain. That was the most precious time in my life so far, when I was about to become a papa. I remember everything that happened back then, even stupid little things," the man protested rather seriously, brows knitting together with frustration as he once more recalled the events in his mind's eye.

"Not that this was something trivial, because I was kind of worried for them, being that they were so young looking. They seemed happy about the pregnancy, though; that was the good part. Sakura and I didn't want to pry too much, so we kept to the usual pleasantries and wished them well, asked how far along, etc. From what we got in response, it seemed like theirs was due only a few months after Hiyori was supposed to be born. Thus you can understand my curiosity now. She'd probably be going to school with the kid, under normal circumstances, unless they home-schooled him or her, or something."

Just running the scenario through in his head left him in tumult.

There could be no way that his friend had been able to mask something as big as a child for so many years, could there? Even Takano, who admittedly wasn't the sort of companion to clue him in on too many things, would have had to have brought up his offspring, if he had any, at some point. The supremely less subtle Onodera couldn't have slipped something like that past him either, at least Yokozawa didn't think so. The facts didn't add up, and poring over the idea made his brain hurt. What in the hell had happened, then, if Kirishima wasn't completely off his rocker with the identities in his anecdote?

"I don't believe it." His eyes closed painfully, mind refusing to accept any other conclusion. "I've known him for nearly a decade; he would have mentioned something if that were true."

"I get that you have your friendship, but I'm sure what I saw is really what I saw. And if he's as close with you as a best friend should be, then I think you're right; you would have known about it. Unless something odd went on."

"Shit..." was the beaten response from the raven as his hands reverted back to massaging his temples.

All of this, if it were genuine, was really going to have to marinate before he could even begin to dissect his feelings about it. His heart pulled in alternate directions, a part of him willing to understand if he'd never been clued in due to the sensitive nature of the topic, a part of him feeling tiny, unworthy for the same. Just how important to Masamune was he really?

Yokozawa knew it was recklessly hopeful to want to be someone's number one person, for once. He'd never been that special to anyone. Not to his family, not at work, despite his record, and apparently not even now to his closest friend.

Still, he couldn't think of what else to do but to carry on as he always had.

"Anyway, I'm heading out then. I'll be back later tonight," Yokozawa announced gruffly, figuring that it was polite to clue the other male in on that much.

Yes, he was running away in a manner of speaking, wanting to remove himself from this conversation. However, he couldn't have himself getting locked out of the house for the mistake of thinking Yokozawa had gone to bed early or some other such endeavor. It was true, he did plan on returning, if only because this was where he was made to live for the time being.

As for how long he wanted to visit his old companion, that he would determine only when he faced the situation itself. It depended on an outside factor, mainly, that of the presence of Takano's would-be caretaker, Onodera. Takafumi was not so hot-tempered as to pick a fight with the younger male, but it didn't make being around him any more pleasant. If he found that he could mind himself well enough, the visit could be extended for longer; if not, he would keep it simple and then bow out.

It was none of Kirishima's business, but he obviously wasn't a fan of the impending trip. Still, like the mere reflection of a reflection in a mirror, he was so far removed from this problem in Yokozawa's eyes that his input held no weight. If he told the raven of his opinion, he would only be rebuffed, potentially seen as meddling in things that he shouldn't be.

Even so, Zen was a human being. No one in their right mind could like the idea of the person they cared about going to see someone whom they loved more than you.

**. . . . .**

As he'd more or less expected, the front door opened slowly, and a nervous countenance rose from behind the portal to welcome Yokozawa into the apartment.

Neither he nor Onodera were likely pleased to be in one another's company, but it couldn't be helped when Takano had decided to take up residence in the latter's living space for the duration of his healing process. Or, at least, that had been the initial excuse for moving in. Whether the younger male in front of him knew it or not, the salesman was aware that Masamune was going to be hard to get rid of even after he had all of his function back.

He had effectively planted his roots and wouldn't budge no matter what Onodera's reaction was when the time came; he was settled for good in his own mind.

That was one more fact that served as sandpaper to Takafumi's already damaged heart. He wasn't sure why he bothered any more, thinking there was something to gain beyond friendship. But he supposed that whatever the unfortunate truth was, there _was_ still that friendship to maintain. He'd do his utmost to keep the two feelings separate if he could.

"Good afternoon... Can I perhaps get you something to drink, Yokozawa-san?" the brunet offered, not quite meeting the other's line of vision. He was on the physical verge of shrinking into himself, and in that instance Takafumi almost felt some pity for his adversary. Chalk it up to his nature, but he couldn't bring himself to feel antagonism at that particular moment.

Fighting the urge to sigh, the salesman calmly responded, "Tea's fine. I don't take anything in it," before continuing his trajectory towards the back hallway that led to the bedrooms in the space.

The journey led him through a small but modestly well-crafted corridor; Onodera certainly didn't spring for the finer decorations, but the effect came off nice enough for the apartment's locale within the palace walls. Uncovering the correct room wasn't difficult from the limited pool of doors, and Yokozawa soon entered the main bedchamber where his friend was holed up.

Takano was laying sitting up on one edge of the bed, laptop perched open on top of a pillow to give it the right elevation for typing. Keys industriously clacked as the other was in the midst of crafting an email; the guy didn't chance a look at Yokozawa until he had reached the end of whatever was being said.

"You're giving up your Saturday to come over? I still think you're crazy. Work's only going to pick up again soon."

"I can deal with work," Yokozawa curtly replied, finding a chair on one side of the room and dragging it closer to the center, "That's never been an issue. You might want to worry though, Masamune. Are you keeping up your end of the bargain from here? Whenever I've gone up to check on your subordinates they appear to have been doing well, but I can't have an eye on them all the time."

"I'm in constant contact with the office. If you ever have any more concerns you can forward them to Hatori if you like; he's running things in person over there."

"Noted." Takafumi paused, shifting the package he'd carried with him and handing it over to a curious-eyed Takano.

"Go ahead and open it. I figured you'd probably run through most of the ones you already have in your apartment now that you've been laid up for a month, so here's some more to keep you entertained."

The bespectacled editor eased the wrapping off the gift and uncovered a modest box of books, all of the titles thus far foreign to him. A small smile dawned on often solemn lips and he politely thanked the other male, rifling through the stack to get a good look at each novel. He could only assume that he'd enjoy them; Yokozawa more or less understood his tastes in literature.

"You didn't have to bring anything by the way. Now I feel all strange," he murmured jestingly, setting the box aside after his survey.

"It's nothing."

The salesman settled in firmly to his seat, pleased by the statement offered. At that moment, despite the reality of the situation, he could feel the familiar strains welling up within him where he most craved some sort of affirmation from the other male. If he had any business doing so, Takafumi would have liked very much to have reached out to touch him.

"So, it's pretty obvious how I am, what with this set-up." Takano gestured at the leg in question, which was bandaged and splinted within an inch of its life. Said bandages were a tiny degree off-kilter however, the sign of an amateur applying them. That combined with the odd amusement in Masamune's voice led Yokozawa to believe that it was likely that Onodera was the one curating the healing aids.

"I am curious though how it's been with you, Yokozawa. I had no idea you were planning on getting hitched, but that's what's what I've heard all the same. Tell me, is it really working out that well, you and Kirishima-san?"

The words stopped the elder of them cold in his saccharine imaginings, jarring him right back into the true state of affairs. A frown lit his lips and his heart began to pound insistently. Takano knowing about that particular arrangement seemed all the world like the perfect death to any hope of reuniting with him. He couldn't bear the thought of such a demise.

"H-how did you know about that?" Yokozawa more or less croaked, hoping it was just some sort of oddly spot-on joke.

"Heard it around the office somewhere. I can't really recall from who, other than they were surprised as I was that you were settling down with anyone."

"Ah, well."

The raven found himself inexplicably stuck in between a rock and a hard place. While it wasn't like he had chosen the direction his life had turned as of recent, something in him didn't want to state that Kirishima had forced him into it, either. Even if that was the gist of things, objectively. He wasn't sure why he felt like shielding the man from judgement, but a sense of unease prevailed when he considered doing so. Thus, he needed to find some other means of describing the quandary.

"He's fine, I guess," Takafumi answered noncommittally, "We're not rushing into any decisions."

"He already has a kid though, right? How does that work out?"

"...It's fine too," the blue-eyed answered truthfully, "She's a good girl who never gave any trouble to anyone. I enjoy being around her."

"Are you thinking of having any yourself, when you and the guy get married, or is it fine that you don't? Some people can be strict about that, with second marriages, so you should know what you're getting yourself into."

Did Kirishima expect that if he went along with this union, they'd have themselves a couple of children? Yokozawa had to admit he didn't know even that much about what was running through the elder's head when he'd aligned himself with the salesman in an unbreakable bond. Yokozawa's parents probably would have expectations in that area, but it wasn't up to them.

Shaking his head to clear it of the dangerously quaint thoughts running amok within, he was pressed upon by more urgent ones. This talk of kids had unwittingly brought the question he was burning to utter to his lips. If he was going to be interrogated about his own situation, it felt somewhat fair that his companion be a little honest with him, as well. At least if he took the plunge, he'd know one way or the other if he'd been left out in the dark about the man's history up until now.

"Hey, I have something to ask you."

"Shoot," Takano answered smoothly, gaze still affixed to the screen displaying his work.

Yokozawa hesitated for the briefest of moments.

He couldn't wholly be sure that Kirishima was telling him the truth with the tale that the elder had spun earlier. It did _seem_ like too big of a coincidence, but he could believe it because the world inside the capitol could be rather small at times. Still, he had his doubts. But why then had his brain insisted on bringing up such a bizarre topic? Also in his hesitation, he wondered if he should reveal where the information had come from, were his friend to wonder why he suddenly asked about something so major.

Tentatively, he commenced his inquiry.

"Listen, I'm aware this is going to come off weird, but it's something I've heard recently, and it was so bizarre that I wanted to confirm that it's untrue with you."

Lens framed eyes peeked at him for a spell, questioning. "Oh? What's got your feathers ruffled then? Let's hear this one."

"Someone I was speaking with not too long ago mentioned that they thought you were a father. Like, that you had some kid back when you were a teenager, and they asked me if I knew where the kid was going to school and that stuff. I told them they'd obviously got things mixed up with someone else, because you don't, but I thought I'd run it by you anyway. Strange, isn't it?"

"Who did you say was asking you about that?" Takano was frowning, countenance marred by the early signs of anger.

Just seeing that sort of blatant reaction, Takafumi's stomach dropped out from beneath him slowly, sinking further with each moment he was greeted by the stare. His friend wasn't the overly sensitive type, so there had to be something to the story if he was bothered enough to get upset over it. And if that was the truth, well, Yokozawa would be forced to wonder for the umpteenth time why he'd had to hear news of this caliber from someone like Kirishima rather than from Masamune himself.

"...A random at work... I hardly caught the guy's name. Must have known we're friends and thought he could get information from me."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah." Far be it for him to say he and Kirishima were any sort of confidantes, but it didn't feel right to drag the guy into a quarrel of his own if he could avoid it. He was the reason he knew any of this stuff to begin with, so the debt was now repaid.

"..." Takano's chin dipped slightly, a more solemn expression gracing the man's features. "I can't deny it, although it's not something I really want to talk further about either. Sorry."

Without warning, the bedroom door cracked slowly ajar, the newcomer nudging it thusly with one foot, to spare his already occupied hands. Onodera was attempting to balance a tray in his grasp, carrying in the earlier promised drinks he'd put together for the two friends.

Takano shot him a look that ceased the dialogue they'd been engaging in. Yokozawa couldn't say he was entirely shocked.

It sort of followed that if his friend was against sharing such information from the get-go that he'd be even less likely to do so in the presence of his lover. Especially when said person had a lot to do with the touchy subject being broached. No, the salesman knew what was going on, and he couldn't do much about it. Any supposed child of theirs might forever remain a mystery, at least to him. Takano wasn't about to risk Onodera hearing what they'd been discussing and becoming upset over it.

Onodera edged over to him first, depositing his tea on the nearest surface with a polite, "Here's yours, Yokozawa-san."

Well-mannered as the rookie was, the elder male could still sense the unease he brewed internally. Takafumi merely nodded though, acknowledging the offering. The younger then traversed a path to the bedside, readying to hand over coffee to the head editor. With the absence of a third beverage, it could be assumed that after doing his hostly duties, the brunette planned on absconding from the room and letting them alone.

"Thanks," Takano greeted dotingly when his drink was set before him, snaring eye contact with the one serving it.

A hand ascended from his lap and slowly brushed against the back of Ritsu's palm as the younger let go of the cup.

As soon as their skin met, a flush rose in Onodera's cheeks, but he opted to say nothing in response, leaving off the lovey gesture with a simple frown.

Meanwhile, Yokozawa was similarly disposed and even less amused. If he was listing off the sort of things he hadn't wanted out of his visit, seeing this would be at the top of that list. The pair had a certain chemistry that as much as he hated he couldn't completely ignore.

- _Briiing!-Briiing!-Briiing!-_

Retracting away from the heavy atmosphere, Masamune reached for his mobile, clicking the thing on and holding it up to his ear, face braced for the reveal of what the interruption was to be. No one in the vicinity had to wait long before they surmised the gist of the drama; the man was soon shouting it out for the whole neighborhood to listen in on.

"Ichinose-sensei is ...WHAT?! NO, I _DON'T_ CARE WHAT HER EXCUSE IS. JUST GRAB HER, GET HER STARTED, AND I'LL BE IN SHORTLY!" Changing gears rapidly, he turned a furious gaze upon the other two men in the room, hissing out an irked gust of air.

"Erika-sama has decided that she's giving up on the new arc. Last minute," Takano summarily announced, utilizing all the grave air of an eulogizer at his finest.

"You're kidding," Onodera intoned with fervor, the younger man seeming ready to crumble at the problem looming.

Takano stiffly shook his head, eye twitching as he slammed the phone back onto the comforter. Neither looked too pleased with the idea of being thrown back into work at a time like Saturday evening. "Why couldn't she just have went with it? I thought we'd talked out all the concerns Sensei was having with the edits this time..."

"Knew I should have had her come into the damn office to fix it," the chief griped. "They get up to too much mischief if you let them roam free. Oi, Yokozawa, I apologize for trying to boot you out the door already, but I guess you're welcome to stay if you want to help with this debacle?"

Standing abruptly, the raven shook his head. It wasn't the best visit he'd ever had, but with all the electricity in the air from the other two occupants of the room, Yokozawa was ready to cut his losses and bow out. There wasn't much else he could do, at that point.

"Not a chance in hell, Masamune. I'll leave that all to you."

**. . . . .**

Takafumi's journey back home was relatively uneventful, but the salesman couldn't say he was in a stellar mood by the end point of it.

The entire train ride, his mind had been infiltrated by broody thoughts about the various lines of conversation he'd held with his friend, and the behavior between the same and the man's would-be paramour. Perhaps the worst part had been that he could no longer bolster himself with the idea that Takano would grow tired of Onodera's reluctance eventually and leave the man behind.

The rookie editor while certainly not openly engaged in the light affections, was more receptive to it than he had ever previously been. Where a fit of screeching would have been before had been substituted with a quiet tolerance. That in of itself was tell tale enough for Yokozawa. He could see the writing on the wall, and it didn't bode well for him. He'd sort of known all along that he was clinging desperately to nothing, but now it was at a stage where he couldn't even struggle that much.

He needed to let this go before it ate him alive and stole from him any joy he took in having Masamune as just a close friend. Still, it was hard to jettison something you'd fought for for so long, and Takafumi was sure it wasn't going to disappear the same instant he willed it to. Small steps would suffice in the end. It felt like a waste, but he didn't have any choice in the matter.

When he arrived at the house, he had every intention of entering quietly, sneaking into his room and trying to sleep it off. That unfortunately was dashed from the start in that he was not only noticed coming in, but actually tailed to the other quarters when the elder had spotted the morose look on Yokozawa's face.

"Don't be sulky and run off when I'm right here to talk to," the elder pouted, further stating, "It won't relieve you any to hold feelings like those in."

"...I never asked for an opinion."

Shrugging off the hand that had so casually attached itself to his shoulder, Yokozawa moved minimally in where he was resting, cursing that he hadn't thought to lock the door that connected the rooms before the man could squeeze his way in after the raven. It hadn't ever been a problem before; usually when he closed the main door to the space Kirishima got the hint not to bug him, but tonight the man was apparently hellbent on doing so.

"I can't help but be concerned when it's the person I love acting like that. Nosy, maybe, but I can promise it's with all good intentions."

Zen made a decision to ignore the manner in which the other was shrinking away and took a seat on the bed in the space that had been cleared by the raven's shifting, fully insistent on staying until the problem was settled. At least for the night. He knew better than to think something that ran so deeply in the man's feelings could be entirely resolved in a short period, even if he wished it were possible.

"How's your friend?" Kirishima asked after weighing the silence for a little too long.

Yokozawa didn't even bother looking at the other man on the bed. It wasn't as if it was the man's business anyway and he'd rather not have said anything at all given that seeing Onodera take care of Takano had been just short of a slap in the face. There was no denying the bond between the two of them and it pissed him off, amongst other emotions that bombarded his senses.

"Nothing much, he's fine," the salesman finally settled, surprising himself with the neutral response.

An easy silence dawned for the next few moments, each other seemingly feeling the other out for intentions. Kirishima eyed the younger astutely, trying to get a hold on what precisely the man was most upset about. In addition to their prior conversation going regrettably unfinished, he had kind of figured that any visit Takafumi was going to make to his friend's would only upset the proverbial egg cart. That was why he'd waited, none too patiently, for the man to return to their home; that way he could assess for himself how much damage had been inflicted.

With the way the blue-eyed was carrying himself, it could be an amalgam of things on his mind right now. The only way to be certain would be to just ask.

"What's wrong, Yokozawa? Maybe you don't want to tell me, but I'd appreciate it if you'd clue me in on what's gotten you in this dour mood."

Inexplicably not even hesitating, the raven launched into a very abbreviated synopsis of events. "...I ended up asking him about what we talked about earlier. He didn't provide many answers though."

"All couples have their secrets, I know that much. Yet, it would have been nice to have some sort of confirmation as to what happened since it's clear that child is no longer around. Now I'm going to be wondering about it."

"What do you mean, no longer around?" Yokozawa barked, his eyes subtly widened. It probably should have been an obvious conclusion, but it was as if his mind had never entertained that outcome up until the words left the elder's mouth.

"...You're not surprised, are you? It was you who first told me I was remembering things wrong, because 'Takano doesn't have a child.' But, if I'm not entirely deluded, and he did at some point, he no longer does now. Thus, something happened in between then and today to create that void."

That was the logical conclusion, the only one in fact, but it wasn't an avenue Yokozawa was itching to explore. With each word of explanation Kirishima posed, he could feel his heart sinking lower and lower down in his chest. He didn't want any of it to be true that those two had a child, but if it was, then what in the world had happened to the poor kid? None of the options were too fair to consider.

"Perhaps they gave the baby up for adoption? Or they might even have had an abortion performed, I suppose. Back then, it was almost a different time after all. People didn't just get pregnant and rush to get married to "fix things" like they do now. One simply didn't get pregnant before marriage in that era, no way, no how. Maybe their parents were of that prevailing opinion? Either way, it's probably not something good that went on."

"What the fuck?" Yokozawa piped up finally, mind affixing to one of the exhibits presented and hotly disdaining it. "Maybe it was that kind of a time, but I know he wouldn't just _get rid of_ the kid. That can't be what happened!"

The elder aimed quickly to pacify the other male, shooting him an expression that let Yokozawa know he wasn't accusing anyone of anything.

"Sorry... I kind of wonder if I'm losing my mind or something and making you worry about this for nothing. I _feel_ certain about what happened in the past, but passing myself off as infallible is sort of ridiculous. There is a small chance that I mistook their identity, or it's all become muddled in my brain over time. With the way he reacted to you though, that makes me suspicious that they really were who I met and that the kid is real."

As a new solution dawned on him, Zen raised one hand to his mouth, hoping he was wrong. If he was correct, then he'd just feel like a complete cad for ever bringing this specter from the past up for debate.

Turning his gaze, he murmured, "Though, that boy was very young. I can't help but wonder now... perhaps he... miscarried? It would explain everything if you think about it, including why Takano might not have wanted to talk to you about that."

"You're not wrong about it. He wouldn't tell me anything else, only that the basic part of it was true. They are... or were... parents."

With that instance, Takafumi looked so drained and diminished that Zen really wanted nothing more than to envelop the proud man into a huge hug, but he forced himself to combat the impulse. That would only get him two steps back rather than make any progress.

Somehow, some way, he needed to get Yokozawa to _trust_ him before any further bond could blossom between them. That was the first thing called for. If he mucked that up again by being impatient, then he could kiss his future with the man goodbye and have no reason to contest the split. That ending, the elder was afraid of. Thus, he reeled himself in for the time being.

Settling for placing one hand on the raven's forearm, he gave the appendage a muted caress, rubbing his hand against Yokozawa's bicep as if to soothe him. To his consummate delight, the action wasn't balked at. The man instead sat inert, continuing to look dazedly at his lap as if he still couldn't believe that he had been denied information about a significant piece of his friend's history.

For what it was worth, Kirishima could say that he wasn't too thrilled about that secrecy either. But if he was being honest with himself, that anger had more to do with his own jealousy of the past the two friends shared together and less to do with a lie created out of omission.

**END CHAPTER.**


	21. Asleep Inside You

**NOSTALGIA**

**(** June 25th, 2012 **)**

 

* * *

 

Onodera rubbed at his eyes, staring down at the papers arranged in a semicircle on his coffee table. A few had post-it notes attached to the front of the stack, labeling them as a particular piece of the puzzle he was trying to put together, also known as the storyboard.

At this point in the evening, his vision was protesting on him, everything seeming a bit fuzzy after looking at the same frames and lines for too long. He could really _use_ a break, but to do so would be counterproductive. He was cutting it close as far as the pace he wanted to finish his work at. Breaks would have to be sacrificed to attain the standard he required.

Why was it that he was feeling so strained?

It might have something to do with the “guest” currently residing in Ritsu’s very own bedroom, and the duties that were involved with catering to him. All of that came on top of his usual workload, and he was feeling the toll of it all now. Even so, he wouldn’t lighten his burden to give up either task.

He had always been the hard-working type, and he had a drive to become successful on his own. Onodera had gone into the publishing world, and, for obvious reasons, he would never work at his father’s establishment, so he had gone to Marukawa. Perhaps because of the chasm between Ritsu and his parents, he wanted to do the best he could at his career. That might be a silly form of rebellion but it was his mindset nonetheless. Thus, work couldn’t be pushed aside.

Then, there was _him_.

Takano Masamune, his former fiancé, to Ritsu’s eternal chagrin, his boss at this time, and also another rather prominent role - the father of the one child Ritsu had ever carried.

The man was currently laid up with a leg injury, and due to the circumstances of the accident that had caused that, he had winded up resting in Onodera’s apartment; despite the fact that he had one _next door_ of all places!

That too was another coincidence that had caused Ritsu some panic at first. After all that had happened ten years prior, they had gone their separate ways. It hadn’t been by their own choice, though at that time, he probably wouldn’t have wanted to see him anyway, free will or not. To be honest, he had mixed feelings about the other’s culpability in the matter.

Or at least, that was what Onodera told himself.

Pretending that Takano was somehow at fault for what had happened with their daughter was the wall he needed to keep the man at bay, to make certain that seeing him so often, spending so much time with him… that he couldn’t be swept away ever again by falling victim to such familiarity. While some part of him wanted to be in love with that person, theirs was a doomed love; it had only ended up causing him trauma. He wouldn’t knowingly go back to it for a second round of torment.

So then why would he let such a person share his home for going on a month? Well, that… that was a complicated question.

When that accident had occurred, and Takano had pushed him out of harm’s way, everything had happened so fast.

Yet, there was an instant that Ritsu could not help but to replay in his mind, and that was after the beam had fallen. The pain in the other’s voice, the cast of his eyes. The sound at first had been excruciating to the younger’s ears, and his heart had stopped. In review, that was probably similar to how Masamune had felt, before he had made that decision to risk himself.

There were so many reasons for the man’s thoughts to be scattered - his leg must have been agonizing, broken as it was - but his first vocalization had been to Ritsu, wanting to know if he was unhurt.

Ritsu remembered that when he had heard that, he had been dumbfounded. If he was recalling it correctly, he had reacted indignantly, talking over the concern with worry of his own. He just couldn’t believe that Masamune was wasting his breath when he was the one bleeding on the sidewalk. That wasn’t in any fashion logical.

Why then, did Takano-san say that?

An answer the brunet still hadn’t discovered.

Ritsu sat up in his seat, glowering at his distraction. It was getting to be a bit much with how much this was plaguing his daily thought.

He set the sheaf he was poring through down, making an executive decision that his mind had already crumbled for the night, and nothing more of quality would get done. The rest of the chapter would have to be tackled tomorrow, like it or not.

**. . . . .**

For the month or so that he’d been living under the new arrangement, it had worked better than Onodera had figured it would at the start. This was not to say it was blissful, but more that he’d actually been able to deal with everything, making it satisfactory. Work had been as busy as it ever was, but with him putting in a little more effort, and Takano occasionally staggering into the office in addition to working from home, they’d managed to fulfill their responsibilities there.

The other editors had been a hand too, a fact for which Ritsu was grateful - he didn’t want to die from over-exhaustion trying to play both himself and Takano’s role at the office.

Hatori-san had taken charge of the day to day leadership despite the man being busy elsewhere, getting ready to be married, and did an admirable term at the helm of things. Kisa-san and Mino-san, whom both had families to devote their attention to, hadn’t been shy in picking up any extra duties, either. Thus, Onodera could say, with great enthusiasm, that he didn’t hate his job. At least if they had to work in this crazy genre of publishing, they were a cohesive team while doing it.

As he walked from the living room further back into the other half of his apartment, the brunet pondered the rest.

Prior to now, when Takano had been at his full capacity, they’d been locked in a constant duel with the man vying for his attention and Ritsu resisting as best he knew how. Multiple nights of being harassed were behind them, and that was chiefly why he hadn’t initially been friendly to the idea of letting his ex stay in his home while the man recovered. However, the nature of the elder’s injury did turn the tide in a big way.

It wasn’t as if the man could run after him and hunt him down whenever he wanted to spout off his affection to the younger.

Thus, if Ritsu ever started to feel overwhelmed by his former lover for any reason, he could take the childish way out and simply leave the room. That allowed Onodera a freedom of moving about he hadn’t ever experienced with the adult Takano before.

It made it so he could actually _relax_ , when he was in the head editor’s company. He wasn’t worried about what might happen if he let down his guard a little; it had been extremely liberating. And, if he was thinking things through even more, Masamune had been a lot more… quiet… since they’d been living together. He wasn’t nearly as needy as he’d acted before then. It was like just the simple actions of taking care of him during the time had been enough to placate the man.

Sometimes.

Onodera was not even in the main bedroom for a full five minutes before the familiar strains of a complaint dawned from the other occupant of the quarters. Takano-san was as he always was, sitting on the bed using his laptop, but apparently he had a gripe to make.

"Argh," Masamune growled, setting aside his work and showing off a frown to the world.

He was behaving oddly, almost like a child getting ready to have a tantrum, none of which impressed the brunet all that much. If he didn’t rein the man in, he’d soon grow spoiled, having help with everything. Unless of course he was underestimating his old senpai and the man had some legitimate concern to be making a fuss over.

"What?" Onodera inquired reluctantly, stepping deeper into the room. His intent to grab a set of pajamas for bed out of the oak armoire resting against the side wall. Though he doubted that he’d be able to get to that without fulfilling some favor first. Maybe it’d be something simple like getting the raven more coffee. That was quick and manageable.

He hadn’t really thought things through when they’d come home from the hospital the first time, and had inadvertently directed the person bringing over Takano’s things to put them in Onodera’s bedroom. Thus, out of convenience, the guy had taken over the space. Not shockingly, the incorrigible persona whom he called a boss had made the suggestion that they could _share_ the bed. As _if_ the man would ever give up on such ridiculous notions just because he was injured, after all!

…They had ended up sharing sleeping quarters twice in the space of a month. Not something Ritsu was proud of, but it was the unpainted truth.

"I’m glad we got Ichinose-sensei to agree that my edits were the best thing for the story, but the woman is stubborn as hell. I don’t think I’ve even showered in the past three days. I feel all sweaty and gross now."

"So take a shower then. You don’t have to ask my permission," Ritsu stated without sympathy, throwing open the doors to his armoire and peering inside.

"Excuse me?" Takano scoffed, "Do you remember what happened the last time I tried to do that?"

Onodera sighed, putting his palm to his head. It wasn’t like he could deny that, now that he was recalling the occasion in his mind’s eye.

A week ago, he’d gotten so fed up with the raven’s whining that he’d made the same suggestion - that the man could go ahead and try to shower on his own, because he wasn’t going to help him with that intimate affair.

Ten minutes into the venture, Ritsu had happened to be in the bedroom gathering a sweater when he’d heard a crash from the direction of the bathroom.

After making like hell for the other room, the brunet had discovered his boss cursing up a storm, sitting on the floor of the shower. He’d lost equilibrium in the midst of using both hands to wash his hair, and had fallen over without the prop of his crutches. Leading to a few spectacular bruises, and eyes stinging from the wrath of shampoo which had entered them in the chaos.

Needless to say, it had been a disaster.

"Anyway, I was thinking of taking a bath instead. But if I do that, I’d need you to help me get in it. And maybe with washing my feet. I wasn’t able to do that easily before, so any help would be appreciated."

In all honesty, a part of Onodera wanted to say no to the request.

Before this whole big incident, he would have seen it as a major red flag, a scenario that could only make it easier for the man to swindle him into some sort of affection. But, lately, those sorts of doubts hadn’t crossed his mind as much, to the point where he could believe that it was only out of needing assistance that he was asked. That faction of his thoughts were prevailing at the moment, and, so, he caved, in the next moment agreeing to help. Whether it was a good choice or not was debatable.

**. . . . .**

"Che, you can be a real dork sometimes."

The other laughed roughly, just a pinch of frustration showing as he surveyed Onodera’s contrary wardrobe. The younger male had entered the bathroom not nude, as most sane human beings normally were when bathing, but in a pair of swimming trunks that extended neatly to the knees. It was comical, but also a little bit of a rebuke. Apparently Masamune wasn’t to be trusted too far, at least not in this area.

"It’s not like I haven’t seen every corner of your body at one point or another. …Well, I guess it was too much to ask to see it again. Come on then, help me get in this thing before it gets too cold."

"Careful, or I might accidentally slip and let you fall on your face," the younger bristled, stepping forward and claiming a sturdy grip under one of the man’s arms.

Together, the trip was gingerly made from leaning on one crutch outside the bath to inside the water, the raven relying on Ritsu as his balance for the duration. Even with the help, it wasn’t the easiest operation. By the time he was sitting down inside the calid pool, Takano’s breathing had noticeably elevated, and he took a long moment just to catch himself before thinking about starting to wash.

During that period, Onodera slipped into the large space, having enough room to sit opposite the elder facing him, if he didn’t stretch his legs out all the way. It definitely wasn’t his idea of paradise, sharing this with Takano-san, but it was necessity, he’d convinced himself. Both for helping the man enter and exit the bath, but also for reaching anything the other couldn’t stretch to get from his locked position. Necessary. Not avoidable in the least.

"First things first, can you do my back?"

A faint silence was the initial feedback, but eventually the other relented.

Grudgingly picking up the soap and a fresh cloth, Onodera scooted nearer to the vantage offered him, sitting behind Takano in the bath’s middle.

The pose was almost enough to make him blush as he found himself too close for comfort in order to reach properly, his legs stretched out on either side of the elder’s seated hips. In such proximity, he could smell the softly scented water droplets clinging to Takano’s skin, mixed in with a more primal fragrance that was his own natural essence.

The various sensors had a soothing effect on his brain. He calmly went about the task of laving circles around the man’s broad back, posterior neck, and shoulders. Slow in his motions, he didn’t even realize himself that he was getting caught up in it, not until the first time he heard a pleasant sigh dripping out from the other’s mouth. That little thing gave him pause, but not enough to be entirely discouraged.

Like a treasured project, Onodera invested his undivided attention, swabbing at each surface with a measured amount of force. The next few minutes passed peaceably, that was, until someone else tried to set a new pace.

In the midst of this rather placid interchange, Takano’s hand curled back to seek out one of his, and, before he could pull away, the man was already guiding it to his front, leading his fingers to brush against the one area the brunet had definitely set out to avoid at the start of this ritual. The elder had another thing coming if he thought that was going to be permitted.

However, Ritsu whimpered in a cowardly fashion first and then eloped, sliding around in the spacious pool until he and the lecher were facing each other’s front.

"You can touch it. Stop going around it like it’s going to bite you. You’ve touched it before, after all." Amber eyes were fixated intensely on the younger male, Takano’s lips set in a fake melancholic expression. Whatever games the man was playing, he was going to have none of it! Ritsu was wise enough to know he was being baited, but unfortunately, stubborn enough to rise to the bait. The law had to be laid down at some point.

"Clean it yourself! You have hands!"

"So you want to see…" Masamune muttered resonantly under his breath, and Ritsu’s eye twitched immediately in exasperation.

"Takano-san, that is _enough_!” he snipped furiously, tacking on, “If you’re not going to behave, then I won’t bother helping you at all!”

"Oi, oi, calm down now. No need to get so riled up, Onodera. We’re only taking a bath."

The elder turned his gaze away, leaning casually back against the wall of the tub. Perhaps pouting a little that his foray hadn’t worked, but the other had no mind to care. They’d ended up in this situation for a practical purpose, and that’s what he was focused on achieving. Only that!

He soaked another washcloth and lathered it, handing it over to Takano, who took it innocently enough. He folded it up into a neat little square so that when he wanted to make a new stroke, he could get a clean side easily out of the cloth and not use it up in one go. Ritsu tried to mimic the pattern with his cloth but ended up annoyed at the poor results, giving up after folding it in half. He got his damp and set to work, gently beginning to wipe at the skin above the bandage on Takano’s injured leg.

"It doesn’t hurt, touching so close to it, right?"

"No, it doesn’t. You’re doing fine. You’re not hurting me at all."

The brunet nodded. “Good.”

"I’ll need to change the wrapping later," he thought aloud, mostly for his benefit.

Ritsu averted his eyes as he sensed Takano begin to wash himself, and he focused on his own task instead. The pair worked in near silence for another few minutes, Ritsu working his way down the leg to the man’s foot, where he cleaned the sole and in between the toes, laving a little rougher than before because of how much dirt feet were exposed to on a daily basis.

When satisfied that he had cleaned that leg to perfection, Onodera moved to the other, starting at the top of the knee and intended to move distally, as he did with the first leg. Only, on the way there, he ran into one very startling speed bump.

Between the casually splayed thighs before him, a new development rested. Standing up at an obscene angle was the raven’s cock, the length a faintly red hue and fully protracted. It was hard not to look at the spectacle, even if he knew it wasn’t proper. A coral blush splattered across Ritsu’s face, his mouth hanging open in a flabbergasted reaction to the sight. Even in spite of that, he could feel blood rushing south, his body beginning to react to the other’s stimulation naturally.

"Takano-san!" Ritsu nearly screeched. "How can you d-do that at a time like this?!"

"It’s easy, when the love of your life is touching you so sweetly." His boss’s voice was quieter than normal, each word rolling off into the air with a strained after-effect. Though it was veritably a sappy phrase, the brunet almost felt moved by hearing it. Most of all though, he felt disoriented. What sort of atmosphere was the guy trying to create?

"H-hah?!"

"Ritsu," Masamune called low, his eyes burning into the slighter man’s with that familiar intensity that came when he couldn’t restrain his passion in any more. Ritsu rightfully braced himself because in the next moment Takano was leaning up to claim his lips in a searing kiss.

They clashed slowly at first, each press of the elder’s mouth on his heated, but contradictorily patient. Almost as if the man was trying to ease him into this new play. And, despite his usual antagonism, Onodera’s ardor was prevailing. His mind had blissfully shut down to a lesser state of functioning, his instinct taking over and causing him to shift closer to his once and present lover. He soon was perched over Takano’s lap, head enclosed on either side by the other, his long fingers heedfully kneading at the rookie editor’s ears. So simple a touch, but it made his nerve endings sizzle with building tension.

Takano’s lingual organ plundered deeply within his mouth, selfishly stealing the brunet’s breath and shoving his senses more into arousal. The lack of oxygen was only encouraging his body to respond, a certain desperation to fire up in the pursuit of sweet release. The only way to reach that plain of nirvana was to first battle through the act of pleasure, after all.

Ritsu straightened up into his kneeling position, his back rigid, expecting the onslaught of attention forthcoming. Craving it deep down inside.

Masamune tugged on the board shorts he had worn into the bath, slipping them down to Ritsu’s knees and off one leg at a time, baring his most sacred parts.

The brunet shivered, confirming to himself what was about to happen. Again. Why was it he could never seem to refuse past a certain point? It was as if all his protests dried up in his throat, stuck to his tongue - they wouldn’t issue forth to stop the man doing what he wanted. Worst of all, this always… always, it felt so _good_. Takano held him so gently when they were intimate, he whispered sweet words into his ear, he made him feel desired with every breath and touch to where it all made Ritsu’s heart ache.

The raven head stroked the soft flesh of the backs of Ritsu’s thighs with strong fingers, palpating the skin with his burning explorations. A single finger boldly hooked into his hole, experimentally prodding and loosening the cinched passage. He let out a shaky, loud breath, shutting his eyes and surrendering to the sensations.

Every fiber of him wanted this in this moment, but he could not admit to that, so he would feel it and say nothing instead.

Takano’s touch was exhilarating to him, awkwardly familiar, yet strong enough to incite his passion. He didn’t know whether to delight or to cry when the man held him; he was so confused by being shown such strong feelings when his own wavered - they were uncertain. There was too much in the past that went wrong between them for Ritsu to be decisive on what he felt.

A second finger slid past the point of resistance, and Masamune emitted a surprised gust of air, murmuring, “You’re already so…” He didn’t finish the statement, and he didn’t need to. Ritsu could feel his own readiness, and accepted it numbly. Even his body seemed to react so poignantly to the older man these days.

Masamune held him by either side of his hips, and helped him turn around, the sweet skin of Ritsu’s back slipping against the other’s chest.

Their flesh pressed together, Ritsu raising himself up slightly, titillated but unsteady, too much so to make the plunge on his own. As he tenuously descended, his progress was aided by his would-be lover, one of Masamune’s hands having remained on his body, the other holding his stiff member in a better position for the younger to impale himself on. The first centimeter or two burned at his muscles, and he whimpered, a tear pricking at his eye. He knew though that the rest would come easier.

Ritsu rotated his hips slightly as he took more of Masamune in, past a point the man filled him with little shock to his system other than increased breathing rate, and a flush spreading across Ritsu’s cheeks as he registered how perfectly they fit together.

Takano’s hands, after getting him started, had traveled upward, grasping at the sides of his chest just below his pecs, long fingers digging deliciously into his skin. They were warm like the rest of the man, heated from the water, and maybe a little from his excitement, also. Sweat rolled down from his brow, finding its way to his tongue, imbuing Ritsu with the taste of salt.

He stretched his back, leaning into Masamune’s chest while he took his time to adjust to the hardness lodged snugly inside of him. Ritsu’s pulse was beating an allegri, his eyes narrow slits as he reeled from pleasure that stemmed from nowhere that he could discern, considering they hadn’t even begun to move yet.

He tipped his head back, cautiously, looking up into that solemn face he had come to know so well. Masamune’s golden brown irises flickered with intensity, pupils dilated, and Ritsu noticed that his mouth was parted, shallow, ragged breaths leaving into the world. Hearing them so close to his ear piqued his lust, knowing from their rhythms that the other was just as turned on as he was in that second.

"I love you."

It echoed, reverberating off the bath walls, piercing Ritsu’s ears. He shut his eyes, blinking back tears that were no longer due to discomfort. His head tipped forward again, unable to look at Masamune any longer without fearing what might spring from his own mouth if the man confessed to him just one more time while their gazes were locked. He didn’t think he could have any control over that.

Ritsu raised himself back up again, hearing the splash of the water as he began to bounce, an ungraceful pace at first, not really knowing how to proceed to fit this odd mood. Fast? Slow? Hard? Soft? None of it seemed to be the correct answer, and so Ritsu tried, and tried again, feeling what felt best and trying to go on that instinct.

Takano’s cock brushed all of his interior, its hard length driving into him and making heat course throughout his body in spasms. A knot formed in his stomach. He braced his arms behind him, searching for the edge of the tub to grab onto, but only finding the other’s forearms, and settling for them. His hair gently brushed against his forehead, his bangs upsetting with the fervor of his movements. His chin thrust upward when he sat back on Masamune, a wordless scream as he felt the head of the older’s erection push against his seat of pleasure.

Electric impulses shot up and down Ritsu’s spine, he couldn’t help but make a sound, moaning quietly at first, but the volume built continuously, achieving loud when Masamune joined in the fray, thrusting upward and shoving right into Ritsu, penetrating him right through, roughly. He never could revisit in his mind later the things he did and uttered while in the throes of passion; they were far too embarrassing, far too indicative of just how much he enjoyed their physicality.

"Ritsu… _so tight_ …”

"Ahhh!"

Moist lips tickled at his ear, a tongue tracing the helix, stirring the flesh. Ritsu clenched his eyes tighter in response, grunting as he descended that time, Takano’s entrance a bit starker than before.

"I love you," the voice repeated; it would not be denied. He heard the words, soaked them in. Whatever he might have preferred, Ritsu knew he was no longer immune to that three word-phrase, not with the way it made his heart jump frantically when he heard it spoken aloud in that deep, lulling voice.

Broad palms swept over his middle, sweetly caressing his stomach. An odd gesture, but the frisson it sent careening through his body was strong enough to make him wonder. Ritsu felt as if he had felt a touch like this before, those hands rubbing his belly fondly in response to something, a memory probably best forgotten. He submitted to it, feeling pleasurable tension storing up just from his other movements alone.

Takano was breathing heavily in his ear now, his hips shoving earnestly up to meet Ritsu’s drops, both sensing the oncoming tide.

In the end, Ritsu was the first, letting go with a needy cry as his orgasm hit him full force, causing his body to quiver and simultaneously clench, his spurt cascading harmlessly into the warm bathwater surrounding them. Ritsu arched his back once, and then fell bonelessly into Takano’s solid chest behind him, hips still moving in a phantom rhythm as he waited for the other to hit his peak.

Somehow he could feel it gathering, Masamune’s forays deep and desperate and so incredibly passionate. One of the man’s hands remained on his stomach, as if not wanting to lose that contact, the other tangled in the younger’s wet brown locks, pulling deliciously at the strands like reins as Masamune rocked up into him.

The finish was framed with another declaration of love, Ritsu’s given name mixed into the words. By that time he could do nothing however, but sense as Takano’s hot fluid released deep, the man’s fingers digging into Ritsu’s flesh as he went, head tilted to an uncomfortable angle so that his lover could reach to kiss him immediately following.

**. . . . .**

There hadn’t been much to say previously. For the longest time, they’d lingered in each other’s embrace, framed amiably by the warm cocoon of the water. It had been a moment perfect enough that no contrary thoughts had plagued Ritsu’s mind. He hadn’t allowed himself to turn his brain back on, not for minutes upon minutes. Whatever it meant for his sanity, he had been happy to just sit there with Takano, to merely be content for a while.

Eventually, the night had resumed. He had helped the elder through the remainder of washing, went through the motions for himself, and then it had been out of the tub and back to the bedroom.

After dressing for sleep, Onodera had procured that hour’s dosage of medication and handed it over to his patient to take with a glass of water.

The routine was a good way to settle both back into a neutral state of addressing each other, no matter what good - or bad - thoughts might have been floating in mind after their prior act. It was always a bit awkward, going from one extreme of warring with each other to the next, where they may as well have been making love. Perhaps Takano even saw it as that. Ritsu didn’t know what to call it.

"Onodera, can you do something for me? In my dresser, the bottom drawer… I want you to open it. Inside, there should be a white garment box. Please bring that to me."

Takano’s eyes were partially dilated, and he tipped his head back into the pillow, seeming a bit hazy. Ritsu supposed it was the prescription kicking in, but at the same time, the man appeared rather pitiful in that moment. That expression honestly, startled him.

Getting up from where he’d been sitting on the edge of the bed, he hustled to obey the request, not knowing what it would bring. Finding the wished-for item wasn’t hard. His senior had only taken over one dresser when he’d all but moved in following the accident, so it wasn’t like he had a plethora of places to search. It was the only thing in the named drawer that was in a container rather than the rest of the clothes, which were stacked in neat piles side by side.

He brought over and handed the box to Takano. His boss took an oddly deep breath before reaching to pull off the top.

Inside lay a tiny yellow dress, sized for either a very small human or a large porcelain doll. The younger studied it with apprehension, numb, but knowing he was near the brink of some unfriendly emotion. Takano grabbed the dress from its confines, holding it up to look at it, longingly. The raven-haired man swallowed hard and to Ritsu’s shock, he looked very much about to cry.

"Takano-san?" he called out, now concerned, "What’s wrong?"

"Ritsu," the older male croaked out desperately, "I hope that despite everything, you can believe me now when I tell you that all those years ago, I tried everything to get our parents to let us keep Hinata."

Ritsu’s heart bolted at the once-familiar name, and he instinctively took a scoot away from his side of the bed, face blanching.

"W-What are you saying? I… you didn’t! You let them take her! You let them do that to me. You let them _hurt_ me. Don’t lie to me now! I still won’t forgive you.”

"Ritsu!" Takano implored, his voice increasing sharply in volume.

"I did try. I couldn’t wait to hold our baby in my arms. Even though we were young, I wanted that more than anything in the world, for us to raise her together. I am sorry if it wasn’t true, but I always believed that we were going to have a girl. I bought her this dress before everything happened, so that she could wear it when we took her home from the hospital."

As he got that out, Ritsu remembered that belief, how the same surety had shone in Takano’s eyes back when they were short-sighted teenagers growing up way too fast.

**. . . . .**

_“Senpai,” he began, a shy inflection to his words, “I know it’s probably early to think about this, but what do you want to name our baby?”_

_Masamune turned his gaze on the younger, kneeling on the mattress. He considered the question while arranging the covers, covering Ritsu with a heavy blanket before falling next to the boy on the bed. No matter if he hadn’t complained, Masamune worried with his fiancé’s small frame that it would be easy for him to catch a chill, as cold as this early fall was turning out to be. He would do what he could to stave off that problem, to make sure that Ritsu remained as healthy as could be._

_"What, have you already picked something out?"_

_"N-no, of course not! We should both like it if it’s for the baby; I wouldn’t just choose without asking you. …But, I was thinking that maybe, if it’s a boy, it would be nice to name him something similar to your name. After all, you’re named after your uncle, right, Senpai? So we could name the baby Masa, but then add a different ending to it, that way he would have that in common with you both.”_

_"I think it’s a girl."_

_"A girl?" Ritsu vocalized, confusion lining his face, “Why?”_

_"Dunno. Just have a feeling that she’s a girl."_

_Masamune stretched his arms over his head, staring up at the ceiling of his bedroom. All in all, the suggestion his intended had brought up was sweet, but it didn’t really appeal to him. He would rather the kid had her own name. It was true that he had been named after his uncle Masayuki, but that was only his parents sucking up to the man, to ensure that he left his estate to them and their child. Not exactly the heartfelt tradition Ritsu thought it was, so he wouldn’t allow his child to be a part of it._

_Aside from that, it was true. Just a few nights ago he had had a dream about their little one, who was definitely a girl in his recollections. In the dream he had seen her swaddled in pink and sleeping snugly in Ritsu's arms while he himself had one arm around the other on the couch. Their daughter had had his own dark hair, but Masamune had never gotten to see if she had his or Ritsu's eyes. His heart pulled for the latter option, but either would have suited. In any case, with her, they had been a family._

_"What would you name a girl?" Takano prompted._

_"Um… well, I thought that… Hinata would be a nice name," Ritsu confided in near silent volume, pulling the blanket up to the level of his nose. It still didn’t hide him completely, and a soft blush persisted on his cheeks just under his eyes._

_Takano rolled onto his side, unable to resist the urge when the younger was so close to him, and pressed a soft kiss against Ritsu's forehead before starting to rub the top of the brunet's head, pushing his fingers methodically into the other's scalp. He found that when he touched him there, Ritsu was very receptive, and this proved true today. He nuzzled into the hand that caressed him as a cat might, waiting on Takano to say something further._

_"I like Hinata. Is it after someone in your family?"_

_"No."_

_"Then why that name?"_

_"It’s silly, Senpai.”_

_"So? Tell me anyway."_

_"It means sunflower, right? The day our baby was made… when we were in the field…" Ritsu's voice cracked and came to a dead halt, unable to continue on without embarrassing himself to an irrevocable degree._

_"There were sunflowers there," Masamune finished for him. His lips turned up at the corners. Reaching under the blankets, he searched until he found the younger’s slightly swollen belly, and placed his hand over it, gently murmuring the chosen name into the air of his bedroom. “That is definitely her name, I agree. I can’t wait to see Hinata.”_

_"Senpai…" Ritsu called out, trembling once more as green eyes welled up with happy tears. His own hand reached down out of impulse, covering Takano’s and linking their fingers. He couldn’t remember a time he had ever felt more complete in all of his life._

**. . . . .**

How naïve he had been, back then.

"That day has been sacred to me, these past years. Hinata was created out of our love, and despite what came of it, I try to remember Hinata on this day, honor her memory. It was a terrible thing that happened, to you, to I, but to her most of all. Hinata deserves our thoughts-"

He reached a breaking point, tears coming now, but ones of crazed emotion, not even close to the joyful ones a decade prior. To hear his daughter’s name repeated, over, and over, and over, it was like being reminded of how he hadn’t been able to keep her, and how much that had devastated him. It didn’t matter so much that what Takano was saying were positive things, that he also missed their child - the issue was so sensitive for Ritsu that he couldn’t bear for it to be brought up in any context.

The man didn’t even know how he had suffered, how could he? They had obviously never talked about it.

Ritsu had tried to forget those dismal days, to jettison them from his memory bank and spare himself that pain. It wasn’t because he didn’t love his little girl, but more because he did. He wasn’t strong, he couldn’t imagine having to relive all of that once a year, he needed not to be reminded; he did not want to go there again.

"God, would you just STOP saying her name! SHUT UP! I can’t… I can’t! Damn it!"

Ritsu buried his head in the pillow and began to sob uncontrollably. His back heaved with the force of his hyperventilation, and Takano paled at the emotional turn he had taken. Wincing, Takano shifted his weight the best he could, and engulfed the smaller man’s form with his, capturing him in a full body embrace. His arms circled around Ritsu’s torso, cinching them tightly together, and steadying the younger so that he might calm against the solid presence at his back.

"Leave m-me alone!" Ritsu screeched, battling against the hold.

He shoved both hands into the mattress, trying to use that as potential to increase the force with which he pushed back against Masamune, hoping to escape the enclosure. It was a futile effort. As he attempted it, his elbows buckled, and he fell back onto the mattress limply, with the older man’s grasp on him not even an iota weakened.

"Takano! Let go!" He resorted to verbal pleas, his sobs coloring the tempo of each syllable. "Don’t hold me like this, I don’t want it! I don’t want it!"

"Ritsu." A voice softly, but firmly resounded in his ear. Warm arms squeezed around him.

"Let… go."

"No, I am not going to let go. You need this."

Takano exhaled deeply, and then pushed his chin onto the other man’s shoulder. He was trying hard to keep his own stirred emotions in check, to be strong for the one that he loved. In truth, he needed Ritsu just as much as Ritsu needed him, if not more.

He talked tough about the situation, venturing to maintain a calm facade, but it was all a ruse. His heart had been dealt a near fatal blow the day his baby had been taken from him, only to lose sight of his fiancé for year after year. He had felt hopelessly alone, filled with blistering pain that ate him from the inside out. How he had made it to today was debatable. He talked tough, but he still required healing, closure.

"Ritsu, it’s okay. Saying our daughter’s name is honoring her, not harming her. She wouldn’t want you to forget about her; you’re her father. I know you love her, and perhaps it’s been easier to forget, but it’s been ten years. You should try to remember her now."

The brunet groaned into the pillow, hands trembling with emotion.

"Yeah, I can see how well that’s worked out for you!" he snapped. "Tell someone who believes what you’re saying!"

A second later, he thought better of it, eyes widening.

He hung his head in shame, feeling for the first time the dampened fabric around the collar of his shirt, on the back side. He slowly, regretfully admitted to himself, as an adult, that he was not the only one hurt here. As much as he wanted to, he could not ignore that fact.

Shifting anxiously, he sunk into the bed face forward, pushing both nose and mouth against the rough texture of the top sheet. For a long moment he lingered, pressing them forcibly there to stymie his breathing, so he could feel the burn of his lungs; anything to distract him from the awful memories that were threatening to break through his self-imposed walls and reveal themselves to him. He wasn’t ready to confront those things; he knew it would be agonizing.

"Ritsu, I need you."

"Leave me alone, Takano-san." Ritsu heaved a big sigh. The words had lost their power, even he didn’t believe that he meant it when he said them.

"You aren’t alone in this, Ritsu. I know this isn’t something you relish talking about, but if you can at all, I would like to hear it. I never got to know anything, and it’s been nagging me the past ten years."

Onodera peered up at his one-time lover, gauging the man’s sincerity. It rang in the tone of voice, and, if he got right down to thinking about it, she was Takano’s daughter too. He couldn’t fault the other for wanting to know the truth about that event.

"…That same day we broke up, she dragged me off to see my dad, and told him everything that she had uncovered. Upon hearing that I was pregnant, my father was outraged. He told me at that time that they’d intended from the beginning of our engagement that I would be the one to father our children when we married. Because apparently that was more honorable somehow."

"Nonsense," the elder breathed, eyes narrowed in frustration. "I guess looking back on it, that would make sense why they were so upset, but it doesn’t make sense otherwise. It’s ridiculous to assume they could even dictate that sort of thing. There’s plenty of honor in having the children anyway; I don’t get that logic. How stupid."

Verdant eyes pointed downward as their owner thought best about how to resume the tale. It only got more arduous after this part, and recalling the memories wasn’t easy for him. Onodera was resolved to finish the story now that he’d began - it was fair for the man to know - but the words weren’t going to come out naturally. The worst bit was that he felt that no matter what he said, he could never fully convey the horror he’d felt at fifteen, faced with these trials.

"My father asked me, just as my mother did, why I’d let it happen. The only answer I could think of was that I hadn’t thought it would happen, but… I did tell them I was happy about the baby. I didn’t feel like there was much of a chance of convincing them that it was a good thing, but I thought it might help the situation to tell them why I was okay with being pregnant. And that you were on board with it, too. I told them we were in l-love and that we’d decided to take on the responsibility no matter our age. I never thought for a second that they wouldn’t relent and let us keep her."

Sensing the tide beginning to turn, Masamune reached out to take Ritsu’s hand in his, giving it a stout squeeze. He’d always had a vague idea of what had happened with the baby, but to have it laid out in detail was both closure and a new wave of heartbreak.

"Before I could even understand what was going on, we were on our way to the hospital. They said that they were going to have the problem dealt with, and that I had no room to say anything. I must have been stupid but it wasn’t until I saw the doctor that it clicked in my mind that they wanted to take H-Hina away. And when I understood that, I-I lost it. I remember sitting down and just crying. I really wanted to run away, but it felt hopeless. It wasn’t as if I had anywhere that I could go, where my parents couldn’t eventually find me and finish what they’d started."

Onodera’s voice trembled on its own, but shook even more noticeably when he could see the face a few inches from his painted with tears. Even though they lingered in his own eyes, just the addition of Takano’s made everything that much worse. Their mutual sadness amplified when combined, and Ritsu had to pause for a while, letting a few muted sobs travel through before he could steady himself enough to finish off the narrative.

No matter how much time had passed, he could still keenly feel that sense of despair, the feeling of being trapped and knowing his fate that horrified him.

Ritsu had pleaded at the time, begging both of his parents to reconsider the idea. He’d even gone as far as to offer another option, to give the baby up for adoption. If he couldn’t keep his daughter then the only other thing he could contend with was that someone else raised her. He humbly wanted her to live, wanted it more than anything in life, then, and even now.

It had shattered the youth when his words proved to be for naught. His parents had turned a cold face to him, as if unmoved by anything that he’d said. They had already decided the course of his life, yet again. His breaths were not even his own to take.

"The doctor they took me to was willing to do the procedure… but he refused when my mother asked that he also remove the carrying organ, so that I couldn’t get pregnant again. I remember him saying that he thought it unethical as I might decide when I’m older that I want to have another baby. Why it mattered at that point when he was fine with taking away my freedom then, I don’t understand. My parents were angry with him that he didn’t listen to everything they said, but I think they were so rushed to get it over with that they signed the consent form anyway."

"When I woke up, I was in the recovery room, and my nurse asked me if I was going to allow any visitors. I didn’t let anyone in, not my parents, not anyone, but I said that if y-you showed up, you could see me… but you never came."

"…"

It took the elder of the two a long pause to find his voice again, as when he attempted to speak, nothing seemed to want to come out but a strangled silence.

Takano couldn’t think of anything worse, really, than the imagery of Ritsu as he’d known him at that age, small and scared, needing him to be there, but he was nowhere near to the boy. Just picturing that easily elicited another stream of tears to form around the corners of his eyes. Damn it all, but he felt so _guilty_ at hearing that. Maybe he could’ve done nothing to help at that point, but his place was at Onodera’s side, no matter what, and he’d failed in that role.

"I really wish I could have been there," he eked out quietly, not feeling it was much of an answer, "But the same day your mother told me to leave, she called my parents, and they sent me to live with my uncle… several hundred miles away. It wasn’t until a few weeks later that I heard any news, and at that time, all my father told me was to not concern myself with anything… because I had no child any more."

"Sounds about what they told me," the brunet replied acidly.

Ritsu shook his head as if thinking better of it, and with a renewed sadness, he added, “I know it’s been a long time since that happened, but I still kind of can’t believe it. When I see someone with a child, for a brief second, it feels like I’m like them, like I know what it’s like to be a parent since I already have a baby… and then I remember what the truth is. It’s hell.”

"She counts, for me. Hinata. I know we both wanted her, so I’d say I’m a father any day of the week," the raven offered up as his own account, "just because we lost her isn’t the end, I don’t think."

"I… I don’t know what to think really, because I don’t have her _here_.” Ritsu’s arms wove beneath both knees, dragging them closer to his chest to curl in a slight ball that trembled with each uneven breath. “I wanted that in my life, so seeing others… it hurts. And I don’t feel like I can count what happened, because it’s my fault that she didn’t get to be born. I wasn’t a good f-father to her.”

"The hell it’s your fault," a growl persisted, "I think we both know that it wasn’t me or you who did that, but our parents’ idea instead!"

"Yeah, but who didn’t stop them?!"

"You were a kid, and so was I! What were we going to do?"

A hand clamped on Onodera’s nearest arm, holding it tightly and forcing his attention on the man lying beside him in the large bed. Angry and confused, he lifted his pitiful visage to the other’s level, recording the fire in the twinned golden eyes staring back at him. Many emotions warred with one another in the abyss of his heart. He half wanted to strike the man, and half wanted to cling to him like a weakling, crying out the rest of the tears he had left in him.

"I-I don’t know," he admitted.

Shifting restlessly, he lowered his gaze again and curled up, hoping that soon the thoughts clouding his mind would be merciful enough to leave. Nothing felt resolved, but, then again, how could a single talk ever close that looming abyss for either of them? The most either could say was now they both knew the whole truth of the matter, and that was all. The only thing left was to try and move forward somehow.

Ritsu tugged on the covers, exhaustion making the choice for him that he wasn’t going to try to leave for another room to sleep as he did most nights. Here would have to suffice. Next to him, Takano began to make similar preparations without complaint. Slumber seemed the only chance at a remedy for both, and each man was eager to pursue that route.

For the umpteenth time, the younger of the two had the question occur to him. Was it a stroke of luck that they’d wound up together again after all these years, or was it the universe’s way of compounding their mutual misery?

"Turn off the light."

He stretched out his arm to comply, reaching for the cord that dampened the bulb, until all the glow dissipated into dark oblivion. The room was painted in shadows instead, and Ritsu felt that he heard more clearly the gentle breathing of the man laying next to him, felt the warmth emanating from that other body keeping him from the chill of the air. He lay back, settling on the mattress as if preparing for sleep. His eyes still stung from the recent bout of crying, but at last his throat didn’t feel so ungodly tight; his shoulders no longer hunched with the weight of his emotions.

"Good night," he called softly, tone hushed as if to lure slumber nearer for the both of them.

"Ritsu."

"What is it?" There was a slight twinge of trepidation that ran through him, a certain edge to the way his name had been spoken alerting him.

"It’s dark, so hold me."

Ritsu tensed up almost out of habit, the request grating against his ears and imbuing him with a sense of anxiety. So that had been his plan, he thought to himself, for turning down the lamp. Though, if he had to say, it was annoying how well Takano seemed to understand him. There was literally no chance he would cuddle up to the other when he could see himself doing it; by negating that factor, the odds increased several fold.

Still, he was hesitant, a piece of his defense lingering, wavering; not quite gone. Things felt awkward, new, but somehow reminiscent. If he could just picture it a different way, maybe it would be palatable.

He tried to envision a time before everything bad. Had he really once followed this man, blindly and infatuated? There was an era where even the smallest of words or gestures from Takano had sent him into instant rapture; so wrapped in love he had been at that age.

"Here." His voice was a bit strained, but the tone was watered down as not to impose on Ritsu, he could tell.

Arms slowly reached out for him, pulling him closer in the bed, and he was met with a more solid pillow, their bodies connecting in such a seamless way that it was almost too perfect. Their faces were near, he could sense it, but Takano guided the back of his head, letting him rest against the man’s shoulder instead of surging ahead like he normally would, to ravage his lips. He ignored that opportunity, and for that, Ritsu was grateful. More than this, now, would be too soon for his psyche. He wasn’t ready.

Tentatively, he let himself relax, muscles unlocking with each uneventful pass of breath. His hands brushed over Masamune’s skin, and Onodera wasn’t quite certain what he was doing, only that it felt - nice - and that it didn’t guilt him to do so. He found a spot that he was comfortable with, and then stilled his motions, eyes falling shut, ready to surrender to sleep when it hit him.

The teenager inside of him rejoiced.

**END CHAPTER.**


	22. Two Princes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N** : Not much to say. It's been quite a while, but this is the one story I will finish no matter how long it takes me. Thanks to anyone who puts up with my glacial updating speed. I appreciate your support.

(August 24th, 2012)

* * *

 

"Yes, I'll leave."

Those words from the man he loved cut Misaki through with a special sort of agony - worse by far compared to the event of Haruhiko finding them like this. With that single phrase, the youth heard not only the elder's heartbreak, but the responsibility Haruhiko felt. He acted as if he was the one intruding upon them rather than they dealing a wound to him. It would have been discombobulating if Misaki didn't know the man so well. He was apt to take things upon himself even when they weren't his crosses to bear. Haruhiko was sensitive to a fault.

Stinging tears welled up amongst the emerald depths. He kicked himself up into a sitting position, not sparing a thought as to how he dislodged the prince in his wake. The door to the bedroom was long since shut but it had taken eons for the brunet to be able to move.

Going after Haruhiko was something he'd failed in doing even if his mind had been screaming for him to. He'd been rooted to the spot by the weight of his world shattering.

Once vertically enthroned on the edge of the bed, Misaki peered through his misty vision at Akihiko, hoping beyond the limits of his belief that the silver-haired would offer some redeeming words.

"Misaki, I-"

"Be careful with what you say next," the smaller male imparted sorrowfully.

"Perhaps this was fortunate-"

Takahashi had felt such an answer was a possibility, but to actually hear the callous statement from the prince - knowing that the royal meant it earnestly - was aggravating. So inciting that he couldn't form a single word in response for a full two minutes. It could be that he was the one who was unrealistic but shouldn't Usagi-san know enough to figure out that he was devastated right now?

"L-Leave."

"Come back with me." A large hand curled around his forearm, staking a minute claim while the elder protested his command. Violaceous eyes searched his for signals of capitulation, of some wavering resolve to stay in the site of their disgrace. None was present however. Misaki was too far gone to even entertain anything like what the royal was suggesting.

"Leave, Usagi-san. Please. I think we've done enough damage for one day."

"Misaki, I don't feel right leaving you in this state."

"You don't really have much choice in the matter. I'm sorry."

Akihiko surveyed the brunet with a deep-set frown lining his lips. He took in each piece of the misery the younger was displaying, and in it he could find no sort of sympathy for himself. Even though he was sitting right beside Misaki, he was not the person on his lover's mind. That, infuriating as it was, appeared to be his older brother. The prince couldn't discern the cause. As he was concerned, yes, this was not the ideal manner of uncovering their relationship, but it was what it was. Haruhiko now knew the truth and that should clear the way for himself and Misaki to begin a life together.

Why wasn't that seeming to cross the boy's mind? It troubled him greatly.

 

* * *

  **. . . . . 3 days later . . . . .**

* * *

 

The chef had been too muddled to leave the house in the intervening days.

As much as he feared encountering Haruhiko there, Misaki had no idea where he'd even go after departing. His brother and sister-in-law had moved across the country for Takahiro's job, and even though Misaki ultimately could depend on the couple, the idea of doing so gave him a knot in his stomach so fierce that he immediately had to cease thinking of it as soon as he'd begun. Takahiro would likely inquire as to why Misaki was wanting to stay with them when he was supposed to be living with his soon-to-be husband, and that was a conversation he didn't want to have either.

As things were, Haruhiko had been nowhere to be found and Misaki had kept mostly to one or two rooms in the home, doing little and less with each passing day. Lethargy wasn't the culprit behind his inactivity. It was just that whenever he sat down to think of what to do next in life, he looked up after a while and found the hours had slipped by without his notice. Even so, no solutions flourished.

His fiancé had walked in on him being intimate with the man's own sibling. What could a person say or do to rectify that? Was the next stage merely for them to separate?

Whatever it looked like, he hadn't intended things to end up this way.  
  
If Misaki looked back at the beginning of it all, his primary motivation had been pity. At first he'd thought that by being a little friendly, by looking past the way Akihiko regarded his half-brother, he could help soothe the pain the prince felt at losing Takahiro forever. He'd even hoped that if he was successful that his cordial relationship with the royal might help improve upon relations between him and Haruhiko for the future.  
  
Clearly, he'd been far too idealistic. Through his actions he'd only caused Akihiko to transfer his affections to him, and the prince was someone who loved recklessly, without boundaries. Leading him into the trouble that occurred soon after Misaki reaching out to him that first night.

Deciding these thoughts were only enhancing his misery, Misaki trudged from the solitude of his bedroom and into the kitchen. The traditional scent of fading recipes usually cheered him up, but today was different. After all that had occurred, and no trace of Haruhiko had been recovered, Misaki was certain nothing could rebuild his joy. Beside from that, as of lately, any strong aromas only seemed to disturb his stomach and send it into rolling until he was once more rushing toward the bathroom.  
  
But even so, baking itself always seemed to distract him, and right now, a distraction was exactly what he needed.  
  
The brunet fiddled with the pages of one of his cookbooks, settling on a familiar page. At the sight, his eyes watered and his fingers rushed to turn to the next recipe. He needed one that he hadn’t created for Haruhiko in the past, or recently for a certain prince. Something that was complicated and would keep his mind occupied for the next few hours. It may have seem like a silly way to evade his current thoughts, but it was the best way he knew, and the only way to stay within his quarters.  
  
Settling on a specific dessert, Misaki skimmed the list of ingredients, pleased to know they were within his grasp. If they hadn’t been, he would have to venture to the market, and the risks were too great.  
  
Once he had obtained all requirements for the dish, Misaki commenced the process. He hummed happily, the feeling of the thick spoon twirling in his hands slowly easing him into a more placid state.

Just then, the sound of someone clearing their throat reached his ears. Feeling his pulse skip a beat, he abandoned his project to uncover an alarming sight.

Misaki stared down in shock at the handsome figure kneeling before him with a sparkling violet gaze and luminous smile. The prince was so out of place in that position that it didn't register at first to the youth what was likely about to occur. He was so used to the man towering over him, regal and almost arrogant in the way he carried himself. Faced with this pose of supplication, Takahashi was bewildered.

"I love you, my Misaki. Do me the honor of marrying me and staying with me forever."

Mere months earlier, a similar tableau had played out in a similar fashion. Swap one of the actors and the setting, and they could be identical.

When Haruhiko-san had proposed to him, he too had bent at the knee, dressed to the nines with sentimental words to offer up as his inquiry. The feeling the boy experienced with both brothers was radically different though. Where at the first Misaki had been a joyful bundle of nerves, here now the words being laid at his feet were enough to make him feel physically ill. That is, if he wasn't more aghast at how this could have seemed like appropriate timing to the prince to ask such a monumental question.

Whether he was actively trying to cover it up or not, Akihiko caught on to the distaste clouding the youth's eyes in the moments after he'd wrapped up his speech.

His own orbs narrowed, the hot coils of jealousy beginning to twist painfully in his gut. After all the only reason he could surmise that he wasn't receiving a response was that he wasn't going to get one that he coveted. And the reasoning behind that outcome probably had a hell of a lot to deal with that person. Just thinking about it, the prince could feel a migraine coming on strong amidst his burgeoning fury.

"No."

"Oh?" the elder spoke lightly at first, tone dangerously even-keeled. "Why is it you won't accept me?"

"You know why, Usagi-san."

"Please fill me in, Misaki, because now I am not so certain that I follow anymore. All this time, you have told me the same thing. That I should know why you won't answer me when I pined for some mention of your feelings toward me. Or when I have explicitly asked you to be at my side. I don't understand what it is that I'm supposed to comprehend that would sate my curiosity in those matters." He regained his height, standing as it was clear that there was no use for him to continue on in his prior stance. Coming closer to the nettled youth, he shot the other an unrestricted scowl.

Beyond irritated, Misaki couldn't control the choler laced in his voice when he burst out, "I already told you why I couldn't! I'm with Haruhiko-san! You-"

Just then, his speech was abridged by the onset of a devastating wave of nausea. It was enough to cause Misaki to slap one hand to his mouth as if to stem any upheaval, frame doubling over in half with the sheer force of the sickness he was experiencing. He felt that at any moment he'd feel his innards rise up, and whatever argument he was engaged in would have to take a temporary backseat.

"Misaki?!"

"E-excuse me, I'll be right back."

Paled by the sudden degeneration within him, Misaki waved off the silver-haired's concern, making as if to head for the nearest washroom.

And, as much as that was desirable right now, he knew that he needed to be planning further ahead. He may have lucked out in catching the elder off guard for one moment to cease their debate, but as soon Misaki had recovered, he'd be mired once more. Therefore, rather than skulk off to the bathroom, he had another route in mind. So long as the prince wasn't so keen in assuring that Misaki was well that he followed the boy to the other space, it should work.

Putting his detour into action, the nauseated boy dashed off toward the kitchen, running as if his life depended on it. If nothing else, this would save his sanity until he had the time to mull the prince's words over. Staying here would mean he'd be forced into coming to a conclusion sooner than was best. To be honest, Misaki knew that whatever the case, he was going to have to turn Akihiko down.

Even if he decided on accepting the royal in the end, now was a completely inappropriate time to be thinking about marriage.

By going along with an offer like that, he was only heaping more disrespect onto the man he'd been engaged to originally, not even waiting until they were separated to exchange rings with another. Yes, Misaki could hardly talk about being honorable in the position he was in, but some things were just too cruel to consider. The prince should know better, but apparently he either didn't, or didn't care. Time apart might let the youth have the clarity of mind to figure out how to explain that to him.

Carrying a multitude of grievances with him, the brunet slipped out the back door of the kitchen, wondering where he should retreat to.

**. . . . .**

Half an hour later, he was congratulating himself on the brain wave which had indubitably spared him for a while.

Misaki thought that the market was probably the last place the prince would think to look for him, even if it was still within the capitol walls. The grocery purveyor seemed such an unlikely and mundane choice that he felt he'd be safe there if he killed a few hours walking the aisles, at least until he could think of another more permanent solution. By now, the elder had to have caught on that he'd flown the coop, and who knew to what lengths he'd go to find him. Staying in one location, even a clever one, probably wasn't going to work forever.

Browsing through the stands, he used the moment to recollect his chaotic thoughts. Whereas he thought Haruhiko walking in on him and the prince was bad enough, now he had the latter perusing him. Misaki sighed, reverting his thoughts back to the situation that had happened less than an hour ago. He knew the prince loved him, as the man had spoken of it numerous times, but he wasn’t expecting him to propose. Not this soon, and not while knowing full well that he was devastated over the reveal of their tryst. It was tantamount to cruelty.

Misaki inwardly choked at the weight of everything, feeling a fresh row of tears brimming in his emerald orbs. Granted, he knew he had destroyed what Haruhiko and him had, and there was a large possibility he would never regain it. Not after his affair with Usagi-san had been exposed to his lover in the worst possible way. But now came down to the final question. Was it meant to be? Was it meant to be that he and Usagi-san....

"Excuse me if I'm being rude or anything, but are you doing all right, sir?"

A kind voice broke Misaki's contemplation, and he lifted his eyes to the warm gaze of a stranger. The man owned hair and eyes of a similar medium-toned brown, and an exceptionally handsome countenance. Standing significantly taller than Misaki, he had to raise his stare quite a ways to properly meet the other male's. The proper response Misaki knew would be to brush off the concern, but, something inside him twisted, the human side of him reviving at the prospect of comforting. That was probably why he responded as he summarily did.

"No. Not really, I guess."

"Is there anything I can do? I noticed you were looking stressed and I couldn't help myself. Do you need a doctor?"

Putting up his hands to dispel the notion, Misaki shook his head.

"I'm just a bit worn down," he lied, the tears he hadn't yet cried burgeoning closely beneath the surface. His chest felt impossibly tight, and if he felt like there was some safe haven for him to run to, he would have. He shouldn't be in public feeling as he did, but ironically there was nowhere he could go until he had a handle on his emotions.

"But you don't feel like you're going to collapse, right? I wouldn't mind getting you a taxi if you need to go home and rest," the man offered.  
  
"No, it's fine. I'm tired, that's all."  
  
"That's too bad," the stranger smiled sympathetically before quickly changing tack. "Oh, I'm so sorry, here I am barging in without even introducing myself, you must think I'm really nosy!"  
  
Bowing his head slightly, the taller male then introduced himself. "My name's Yukina Kou. What's yours?"  
  
"Takahashi... Misaki," the boy responded at length. He wasn't yet sure what he thought of the guy, but it was a worthy enough distraction to pass some time, talking to a stranger.  
  
Glancing down, he noticed for the first time that the man was pushing a double stroller, and looking more carefully, he spotted two sets of eyes on him.

Both of the babies pondered up at him curiously, as if taking his measure. Misaki stared back, not really sure what to say or do. Awkwardly, he tried, "Hi there."

After a moment of uninterrupted silence, the one on the left let out a cute yawn, lolling her head back against the cushion of the pram with heavy chocolate brown eyes. The other twin showed no sign of wanting to nap, but her gaze dropped from him, instead happily studying the tiled floor of the produce section.

"I think I bored them already," Misaki muttered, defeated. "Sorry."

"Oh no, Kana and Rui have always been quiet, and they sleep a lot more than I would have expected before having them. People always tell me I am lucky that it's that way. They aren't troublesome babies."

Kou peered down at his girls with a fond expression. Truthfully, he expected that both might grow up to be a little less manageable when they were older, so he was enjoying the parenting ease for as long as he could. One day the twins would be teenagers, after all, and most girls grew to be a bit wonky around that age, at least while adolescence lasted.

"Kisa-san says it's because they take after me, but I'm not sure about that part," he added in off-handedly.

Once the words were out though, the man had to stop for a moment because the fact that his lover was on his mind enough to say such a thing proved the other had been absent too long. But, due to the job the elder held, that was a part of life that he'd long since accepted. It might have been paradise to have Shouta by his side more often, but Yukina knew that the raven enjoyed what he did so he wouldn't dream of taking that away from him.

"Um, who is that?" Misaki questioned, perplexed by the new name woven into their conversation.

"My husband."

"Oh, so you're married. I guess I should have figured that, since you have kids."

"How about you, Misaki-san, do you have anyone in your life?"

The boy was taken aback by the question. Usually people in the capitol were well-versed enough that even if they didn't know his face, when they knew his name they could surmise the identity of his fiancé.

Or, that was, former fiancé. He hadn't heard from Haruhiko-san, not even to break ties, in the few days since everything had fallen apart. Since Misaki had remained in the house during that period, he knew the elder wasn't residing there, and therefore didn't know where Haruhiko could be at. The idea made him feel more terrible than he already did; that he had actually run the man out of his own home with his indiscretions.

"I did, but I think I've probably lost them now," he admitted aloud.

Immediately, he thought better of blurting that out, but the words were out there whether he wanted them kept secret or not. Frustrated by the lack of control he seemed to have of his faculties, the younger brunet curled in on himself slightly, not daring to look at the man across from him. This whole encounter was proving more embarrassing for him by the second.

"May I ask how?" Yukina's voice was gentle, unassuming as he pressed for more details. Amber irises scanned Takahashi's features, watching alertly for any worrisome changes.  
  
And though he had no evidence to back up what he was feeling, Misaki didn't care so much anymore to let him in, unknown as he was to him. Perhaps the pain inside him had built up to a point where he needed to let it out or risk snapping. Or maybe he already had gone crazy, and his filter had departed with the last dregs of his sanity. He couldn't be certain.

"It was my fault."

Yukina frowned, a hand reaching to steady the trembling boy. “Misaki-san, please don’t blame yourself. I’m sure it wasn’t your fault.”

Misaki's head throbbed as it once more encountered the clutter of tangled memories, stretching from when he first met Haruhiko, up until where he witnessed the expression of a heartbroken man, one caused by his own hand. His shame, his turmoil of emotions, his forbidden acts with the crown prince. Every little element had contributed up to his current dilemma, Akihiko’s abrupt proposal.   

His eyes were burning with a fresh set of tears, and he swallowed thickly, the lump only provoking his already bubbling stomach.

“No,” he whispered, “It _is_ all my fault! Haru-san did nothing wrong, but I….” He could feel himself begin to choke on the tears. “What I did with Usagi-san was wrong.”

Kou cocked his head to the side. “Usagi-san?” He hoped he wasn’t prying too much, but Misaki had already begun to unravel and didn’t seem to be holding anything back.

"Usami Akihiko." The words were little louder than a breath, the older male having to strain to even hear them. When his mind processed them though, his eyes magnified with shock.

In an instant, Kou began to connect the dots inwardly, lacing this boy's name to the two he had uttered before, and realizing what it all meant. He was speaking of their crown prince, and "Haru-san" had to be the prince's half-brother, Usami Haruhiko. Yukina didn't bother paying much attention to the alliances that other nobles made these days, but even he had heard the news when the King's illegitimate son had become engaged. This boy was that intended spouse and yet, all was clearly not well with the relationship.

"Usami....?" Misaki tried not to cringe at the cinnamon-haired male's tone. "As in the crown prince....?"

"It was only supposed to be once, and even then I didn't want to! But Usagi-san looked so sad... and he said he was lonely, and... I.... I don't know what happened after that" the youth hunched forward, rubbing anxiously at his stomach. "... But then Haru-san.... Haru-san he.... he found out and..." Misaki continued to ramble, speaking more to himself than the one beside him, "...I can't even think any more with how sick I feel lately."

"Sick?" Yukina frowned. "Do you have a cold, Misaki-san?"  
  
The youth shook his head. "No, nothing like that. I think I either have some kind of stomach flu or a bug. Or something similar, because it's the afternoon, but for some strange reason I'm not feeling ill right this second like I normally do. It just randomly happens but mid-day is always the worst."

Yukina returned him an almost skeptical expression. His gaze then dropped to the floor for several stilted moments, and the earlier frown surfaced as he looked up to reply.

"Misaki-san, this is going to sound horribly invasive, but I have to ask you about it. Is there any chance that you could be pregnant right now? This sickness you're feeling, it doesn't seem like flu to me, and," the elder of the two paused, ducking a hand to lightly feel along the outline of the brunet's midsection.

"As I thought, you feel right here like you could be. It's slightly larger there than anywhere else, which doesn't suggest mere weight gain. It reminds me a lot of what mine felt like, when I was early on in my pregnancy."

The youth flushed a bright red, taking a half-step back from the inspection.

For a few moments, he couldn't think of what to say to Yukina's statement, but let the words filter through his brain and turn over, considering them one by one. Unfortunately, it wasn't as if Misaki hadn't considered the idea before. He'd been "ill" for some time now, and especially taking into account he wasn't the type of person to fall sick often, something was odd about it.

Misaki gave a faint nod, turning tremulous eyes up at the noble.

Kou allowed a sigh to escape. He hadn't necessarily wanted to be correct about this. True, they had no official test or doctor's verdict yet that confirmed it, but Takahashi's expression didn't give him hope for a negative on that score. Nonetheless, if it was in the realm of possibilities, it needed to be properly ruled out.

"All right," the cinnamon-haired squared his shoulders as if preparing to get down to work, "I'll take you to see my doctor then, and we'll figure this out, as soon as we can. I understand that either way, you're probably not feeling great about it, but if you are pregnant then you need to know so that you can take care of yourself in the manner that the baby would require."

"You don't have to go to all that trouble, please- I mean, you hardly even know me. Why would you do that?"

"Because I have children, Misaki-san, and they should come first, always. No matter how devastating anything else in life is, such tribulations should be pushed aside in order to make sure they are well. I want to be certain of that in your case. Also, I may have just met you but I want to help if I can. Please let me do so to the best of my ability. There's no need to be embarrassed."

Listening to the sincere tone in the other's voice, Misaki weighed his options. While it was possible he may have just upset his stomach by all the chaos occurring as of late, there was a chance he truly was pregnant. And while he wasn't certain if it was Usagi-san's or Haruhiko's, he wouldn't be selfish. He couldn't allow his child to suffer due to his guilt and the many mistakes he had made. It didn't matter how the possible situation came to be, Misaki would see through that his baby was taken care of.

"Okay."

**. . . . .**

The waiting room of the doctor's was deserted, a blessing to him since Misaki felt awkward enough being in Yukina's care. In just a few hours of knowing the guy he had practically confessed his life story, complete with the pieces he wished he could erase, and now he was possibly about to embark on the next step. He rocked on his heels, vaguely listening to the noble explain the situation to the secretary and await approval to see the doctor. The last thought in his mind was the one that made his knees weak.  
  
What if he was pregnant? Where would he go, who would help him take care of it? What about his job? Would he be able to continue and juggle a baby all at once?  
  
"Misaki-san?" Yukina's worried voice broke though his thoughts. "They're ready for you."  
  
Nodding faintly, Misaki trekked behind the other man, passing by numerous rooms where nurses were inside organizing and making them available for the next patient. Yukina led him to one toward the end of the hall, where they were greeted by a blonde woman in a pressed lab coat.

"Ah, Yukina-san, it's so nice to see you again. Is everything quite all right? It hasn't been that long since your last check-up," the doctor chimed in a welcoming manner, holding a clipboard against her chest as a student might do with a stack of textbooks.

Yukina stepped closer, mirroring her smile. "I am fine, sensei, but I actually was hoping you could look at a friend of mine, Takahashi-san here." He beckoned Misaki over, and the brunet joined their little huddle, flashing her a polite expression. Truth be told, he was incredibly nervous right now, but she didn't seem as threatening as he had worried she might be before they came here. That helped, a lot.

"Oh, of course. What seems to be the problem?"

Misaki cleared his throat slightly. It was about time that he started taking an active role in this, he thought.

"I think I might be pregnant."

The words did not come easily, but he had at least gotten them out. Hearing them though, was a different matter altogether. He was speaking aloud his greatest fear right now, after all. Though Misaki wouldn't hate the baby if indeed there was one inside him, he was merely concerned for them. Whomever the father was... neither of them would be very happy with him for this, he didn't think. It wasn't the optimal time he would have chosen for this to happen, to put it another way.

"So we'll be doing a pregnancy check then. Is that everything? You're feeling okay in general, right?" The doctor put one hand on his shoulder as if to soothe him, and Misaki glanced at her gratefully. His heart was beating a fervid rhythm, and he couldn't seem to calm his thoughts no matter how positively he tried to consider the situation. There was a chance he wasn't, he tried to tell himself, and that would be fine.

"Yes, I have had days where I'm really nauseous, or just tired, but I can't think of anything else that's bothered me."

"Good! That's good at least." She grinned with more confidence than he currently felt.

"Well, I'll give you a rundown. Yukina-san probably knows what to expect too, but how we do it in this office is we like to do a quick ultrasound through your abdomen to look at the carrying organ. If you are pregnant, it will be apparent from that, and it's easier than doing the lab tests they do in some other places. Depending on how far along you look, we'll go from there. Does all that sound okay with you, dear?"

Listening carefully, Misaki nodded at her question. He'd already resigned himself to do whatever he could, no matter what the outcome ended up being.

This was no longer just about him.

**. . . . .**

Walking shakily down the hall of the brightly-lit office, Misaki could officially say that his illness had relapsed. His stomach was turbulent with both nausea and nerves, and if he wasn't still reeling from the news delivered to him moments ago, he might have been crying for the nth time that day.  
  
Though he'd known it was more than likely, hearing he was pregnant had hit him hard.

To compound the blow, the doctor had informed him that it wasn't an early pregnancy. He was just a few days from finishing the first trimester. If only Misaki had acted on his suspicions earlier, then he would have had more time to get used to the notion there was a tiny human growing within him. The knowledge might not have changed anything, but Misaki felt a little guilty that he'd been so scared about finding out that he'd put it off for so long. It was completely irresponsible, and yet another misdeed he could add to the list he was currently accruing.

It was his own fault that, for now, the baby's father was unknown, and that even if their identity was known, who knew if either man would take to the role. Haruhiko-san and he hadn't stopped being intimate during the weeks the affair had occurred, so it was up in the air. Misaki wasn't even sure who he hoped the sire was. Or what to feel, generally.

A baby was normally something to get excited about, but it felt almost wrong to be happy. Though somehow wrong if he wasn't - he bore no ill will toward the child, obviously, and Misaki planned on loving them no matter what happened in life. Just at the moment, he felt more like crying than anything else. His eyes stung with the salt of numerous repressed tears as he left the private consultation room and walked back out to the waiting room where his benefactor was.

Yukina-san seemed to understand what the situation was as soon as he laid eyes on him.

"Do you want me to take you home now?" the older male offered, scanning the brunet for some sort of clue.  
  
"I'd like nothing more than that, but..." hefting a weary sigh, Misaki quelled his thoughts for a moment to focus. "I can't go back there right now. There was a reason I left in the first place, and until I can figure out what to do about that, being there isn't safe. Usagi-san will only bother me if I go back there."  
  
"H-He asked me to marry him today. And I know that if I see him again before I make up my mind what I'm going to say to him, he'll make me answer before I'm sure. It's already hard enough to talk to him sometimes when what I want to say is the opposite of what he wants to hear." Recalling several such occasions, the boy grimaced. "He's so stubborn."

"Then... what do you think about staying at my house? I understand if you don't want to, but it might be a good place for you to think things over. After all, you didn't know me before, so I doubt his highness would think to look for you there."

Misaki was astounded by the generous notion, his heart sinking as he considered it. With all the kindness he, a stranger, had already been shown, it was overwhelming. He honestly couldn't imagine why someone would go to that length for him, especially after hearing what he was guilty of. Was he that pitiful?  
  
"No, I don't want to be a bother-" he began to refuse, only to be interrupted by a hand resting on his shoulder.  
  
"Misaki-san, it's okay," Kou soothed, "I certainly wouldn't want for you to be forced into a decision like that. It's not right. If you need somewhere safe to mull it over, then I'm happy to open my home to you. Really, it's not a bother at all."

Although he still felt as though he was being a nuisance, Misaki capitulated. After all, where else did he have to go? And who could he turn to? Yukina-san was offering not only his home, but his assurance, and right now...

That was exactly what he needed.

 

* * *

**. . . . . September 2nd, 2012 . . . . .**

* * *

 

Kisa sighed in relief as he finally spotted the front door of his house. It had been a long night to say the least, but he could safely sleep knowing that another month's turmoil was resolved; the cycle was through. Just an hour ago he had submitted his last manuscript to the printers, who were as acting as prickly as cacti. As if they didn't do this dance every lunar period.

Morimoto had been the culprit - the woman was driving him insane lately, alternatively stopping and starting with her outlines in the beginning, twisting and turning with anxiety throughout the drawing process, and then promptly announcing her retirement a week before the magazine was about to be released. She had eventually come through and finished the pages, but, then, Kisa was going to miss her.

Of all his authors she was usually the best-behaved, and in private life she was a fine friend as well, so at least it wouldn't be the last time they ever spoke with one another. It would, however, be no small task replacing her on his circuit.

Kisa took out his key, not wanting to bother anyone by knocking on the portal or ringing the doorbell for one of the staff to let him in. It was two-thirty in the morning and everyone who was sane should be in bed by now. He should be in bed right now, and that was exactly what Kisa planned on doing. Quickly slough off his clothes and slip under the covers, curl up to the body heat of his young husband.

He hadn't seen his face for three days. He hadn't seen his daughters in three days.

Come to think of it, he was heading toward their room first. He would hate for them to forget their own father's face, and to be honest, he may have loved them. Just a tiny, inconsequential bit. Ah, who was he kidding? They had him wrapped around their stubby fingers and they weren't even a year old yet.

Kisa set his things on the table just inside the door, pulling off his coat and hanging it on a hook. He eyed the hallway as if it were paradise he had stumbled into.

At times he wondered if Yukina would have preferred the decor to be more elegant, given what he had grown up used to, but he'd had told him it wasn't so.

The artist had designed their living space with simplicity as a theme. Both to ease the mind, and also for Kisa, who after all, had grown up an average man before he had married his prince charming. His parents did fine for themselves, but definitely not well enough to have real gilded gold mirrors and antique rugs on the floor of every room. The furnishings in the home they shared now were definitely on the higher-end, but they also were plain when compared to Yukina's childhood house. Kisa wouldn't have had it any other way.

If he really gave it thought, maybe it didn't bother the younger man so much. After all, back when they dated, Yukina had always been too curious about getting to go to Kisa's apartment outside of the capital. And when he finally got the opportunity, he acted as if a whole new world had been opened up for him just to see it. Fine, and perhaps it had been fun to share Kisa's cramped futon if that meant having to snuggle close to Yukina's strong body, but that was then. He liked their bed now; he was sure that five of him could have easily lain in it comfortably, it had that much space.

Even with the positives, Kisa did worry that he had shot down the other's style in some incremental fashion. No matter how many times that claim was denied. It was just where he was at with self-confidence, although that barometer was rising with each and every year.

Kisa let out a hefty yawn and started walking deeper into the hall, determined to check on his little ones and then hit the sack. He treaded carefully, attempting to make as little noise as possible as he went about his rounds. It was strange for him but part of his reality now was that he had people, to wait on him if he wanted it, but they were still human - they needed to sleep as much as he did. He was no taskmaster to disturb their peace.

En route to the nursery, he remembered the day that Yukina had found out that he had finally conceived. It may have been a cloudy day in the transition between late spring and early summer, but Kou's smile was all the sun the world needed. By his recollection, the man had marched right into his workplace and waited for him to be let out of a meeting he was in to tell him the good news. Yukina generally never tried to interrupt him at the office, but the younger had been too excited to wait for him to come home that day, so his enthusiasm bubbled over and he had made the trip. With six words, he changed their lives forever.

"You're going to be a father!"

That phrase had simultaneously warmed and unnerved him, because, just what kind of dad was he going to turn out to be? If Yukina was there beside him he wasn't going to worry too much about their children being raised well, but that didn't mean he could slack off on his responsibilities either. Kisa remembered having to sit down at that that point, because so many feelings hit him all at once.

If he had to say though, he was glad it had happened. The life that he had now was not something he had ever envisioned for himself when he was a younger man, but it was beautiful nonetheless. And though he'd always been more than capable of taking care of himself, it was nice to not have to have the weight of the world on his shoulders alone, but to share it with someone else when it grew too heavy. What he would do without Yukina, at times, he did ponder. The man was the change that had shaken up his pace for the better.

He carefully pried open the door to the room he sought, noting the mobile above his daughters' crib slowly turning, luminescent shapes projected onto the wall and ceiling, spawned from the bulb within. It was flickering softly, and he found it almost lulling in his tired state, but Kisa continued on walking closer to the girls' resting place, viscerally relaxing when he peered in and saw that both were sound asleep, side-by side, curled up under the thin pink blanket that Yukina's grandmother had kindly made for them when she had found out that she was expecting great-granddaughters. Yukina's older brother had only had one boy so far, so Kana and Rui were her first.

"Sweet dreams Kana. Sweet dreams, Rui."

Kisa tugged the railing down so that he could lean inside and place a small kiss on each twin's forehead. He did so as gently as possible, as not to wake them. He suppressed his longing to cuddle both girls to his chest, tucking the urge away for the morning. They were so beautiful and still so preciously tiny at six months old that he wondered who they would take after in height, Yukina or he. Probably Yukina. Hopefully Yukina. Even for girls, it wouldn't be much fun to be a shrimp like their sappy father. They should be tall and graceful. That was what he wished for them.

God, he loved them both so damn much, how was that even possible? When Kou had brought up starting a family, on their honeymoon trip, no less, Kisa had been gobsmacked.

If he remembered correctly, he had laughed, anxiously, gotten up from where they had been sitting and talking at the time, walked out, and finally had collapsed onto the suite's bathroom floor from shock. The loud thump had drawn a very worried Yukina to the next room, and only after ascertaining that Kisa was physically okay, he'd relaxed.

Relaxed enough to lay on the floor, too, on top of the raven, who had landed face-down, and snuggle into his body so that they could talk some more.

Yes. In the end, this very important decision had been laid out for conversation on the floor of a luxury hotel's bathroom. Not exactly the most romantic of scenarios, but it was what it was. Yukina asked him what his fears, and his reservations were, and he had explained himself, after wrestling with the problem of not wanting to possibly offend the younger man who had, after all, so earnestly opened the topic.

Kisa had been afraid of pregnancy itself, and birth that followed.

He wasn't the most hale and hearty specimen in either height nor weight, and from what he'd seen, that left it to chance how well the pregnancy would proceed. Lots of guys made it out okay, but the only ones who ever ran into trouble were of smaller build, not larger, and that stuck out to him quite clearly. He had pretty narrow hips and let's just say he definitely couldn't imagine ever pushing a baby out through that small berth, especially not if the child was larger, as he feared given Yukina was so tall and well-formed. It just didn't seem like a good idea to Kisa. Not something he wanted to give a go at.

And then, there were the less self-centered concerns. The big, ominously glaring one back then, and even an issue he still fretted over to this very day, was time.

Time was a difficult commodity to come by for Kisa, due to the nature of his career. He worked like a slave every month, trying to get his author's stories to print. Early on in the cycle even, it was a monopolizing job, but when the end came around, he didn't even make it home at times, like this month, for example. When Kisa had thought about children, and being a father, his fear was that he would not be able to give his kid enough attention. How could he, if he was gone so much? Sure, Yukina's work was from home, but he shouldn't have to bear all the burden himself. That wasn't fair, and it wouldn't do any good for their son or daughter either, to only receive one-on-one time with half of their parental duo.

When he had relayed this to Kou, the man conceded that that was all true, but, with ever-present optimism, he believed that it was still possible to make it work. That was how he was, sunny. Kisa wasn't entirely convinced, but his defenses were wavering at that point; when the other so fervently thought it could happen, it was hard not to be infected with a little of that hope. Kisa had no problem with children themselves, and he could tell how much his lover wanted one when he spoke of the subject. Even before they had gotten married, the subject had come up, once or twice. They just had never delved too deep into details.

It had been kind of scary to think that this time they were, and that it might change their lives, the decision they settled on.

Carefully shutting the door behind him, Kisa left his daughters to their rest, and took further steps towards his own.

He strode at a stately pace down the long hallway, rubbing mournfully at his eyes, which were beginning to twitch - a sure sign that collapsing was on its way. The house was enticingly quiet at first, until the most miniscule of sounds snagged his hyper-stimulated attention.

Kisa paused, thinking that he heard something emanating from the guest room.

Given the hour, he would have hoped that their little stowaway would have been sound asleep, resting up for himself and that kid of his, but, maybe he had something bothering him. A bad dream, or... perhaps negative feelings were his ghost tonight. That wouldn't be surprising, considering the situation Misaki was in. Kisa didn't envy him his position.

He listened closer. The sound was a muffled sniffling, and for some inexplicable reason, he kept moving forward instead of giving the boy privacy like it would have been polite to do. Stepping over to the doorway, he pushed it open, softly treading across the threshold.

"Misaki-kun?"

The sniffling momentarily went loud, as if the boy were inhaling all his fluid to get it to stop coming out. Kisa winced, knowing that would only lead to his sinuses firing up later, and walked deeper into the space, approaching the bed against the back wall. Misaki appeared to be curled up in a little ball on top of the comforter, clutching a pillow to his upper chest, and burying his face in it.

"Are you all right Misaki-kun? I heard you out in the hallway, so I wanted to check in."

"I... I am fine, Kisa-san, please, you don't have to worry about me. It's really late..." A tinny voice emitted from the ball, the strains rough-hewn from the sobbing Misaki must have been doing for some time now. Moonlight splashed across his tucked-in body, illuminating Misaki's face when he drew closer. His eyes were scrunched shut, tightly, but tears still squeezed out somehow, and the boy's mouth was trembling with the weight of his feelings.

The editor puzzled for a moment or two before reaching a decision deep within his heart, and continued into the bedroom.

Kisa chuckled quietly to himself, plopping down on the side of the bed beside the sitting youth. He let his legs dangle off the edge, swinging his feet absentmindedly. He hoped to set a calmer mood by acting that way himself. Perhaps it was a strange tactic, but maybe it would be strange enough to distract Misaki's thoughts to where he would become soothed.

Misaki watched, befuddled at the behavior until the older explained, "You know, it always surprises me that it surprises me to be called by that name. I haven't even been married for two whole years yet, but I keep expecting people to call me by my new name. You would think because it hasn't been so long that I wouldn't think that, yet, but there you have it. Admittedly, it would be strange to be called Yukina, for so many reasons, but legally that's what my surname is now."

"Oh? Which name is Kisa, then?" Misaki asked, turning his gaze on the other. The tears were starting to shine on the boy's face, on their way to drying, but he still looked pretty pitiful, all things considered.

"It's my surname from birth. I took Yukina's name when we had our wedding - well, there you go right there. Reason number one why it would be strange - I call him by his last name, and often, so wouldn't that just be confusing?"

Misaki looked taken aback at this rather airy topic, but, out of politeness, he joined it, replying evenly, "I guess it would be."

Kisa stared sideways at the younger man, assessing his state.

There was something provoking in Misaki's sadness, an element that was relatable for him. It incited his own ruminations, and he wondered if broaching the subject causing the melancholy would be any help to making it subside. If he could say something to help the kid feel better, well then that would ease his own worries. Kisa wasn't sure if he had always been this sort of a person, but since becoming a father he felt like he saw people more clearly, and was more inclined to want to help them if ever they had problems.

They sat in silence for a minute or two while he contemplated his course of action.

It wouldn't be an easy topic to discuss, that was for sure, but wouldn't it be worth it if it had the desired effect? Kisa thought that the pros outweighed the cons here. He would do it. Eerily, the boy and his fiancé's ages mirrored he and Yukina's, only with the victim being reversed. In this situation was the younger who had been unfaithful. In theirs, it had been him.

"Misaki-kun, I just would like to say that... you're not alone here. I... you may or may not believe it, but a few years ago, I cheated on my husband, back when we were engaged. It was one time, but that was a thousand times too many. I wasn't carrying a child, but I think that I may understand a little bit of what you are going through right now. So, if you want, we can talk about it - whatever you feel comfortable with. Would that... help?"

There was a squeak beside him, and the younger shifted in his seat, turning to face Kisa directly when he found his words.

"Y-You cheated? Um, I... I'm really surprised, Kisa-san! You and Yukina-san seem so happy together!" Misaki blurted out, his verdant eyes cast wide as if to underline his shock.

Kisa nodded, gently. "We are happy together, but that took some time after the fact. It didn't happen overnight, but you are right, it's good now."

Misaki reached out for the pillow he had been holding before, bringing it to his lap to cradle. He sat on the bed for a while in silence, thinking, and Kisa waited to see what he would decide.

Obviously, it was a sore topic, being that infidelity was what had gotten Misaki into the mess he found himself in now. It wouldn't be easy to just tell someone about it, or maybe not even to hear someone else's story. And he had to be willing to hear and participate if it was going to help him any.

Misaki squeezed his eyes shut in concentration while he pondered. He knew what he wanted most of all, and that was for life to go back to the way it used to be before. For all the drama to melt away, and for him to find himself somehow back at home with Haruhiko, and to never have hurt the older man like he knew he had. It stung badly, because if there was one thing Misaki had realized, being away, it was that out of anyone in the world, Misaki had probably had the potential to hurt Haruhiko the most, because the other loved and trusted him. With his actions, he had ripped that trust to shreds.

Could he ever really get it back? Kisa-san apparently had, but, then, Yukina-san seemed like such a unflappable person that Misaki wondered if that had made all the difference.

Haruhiko-san didn't appear to be on the outside, but was actually a delicate minded person. That was why he often came off as cold, because he had a hard time trusting people and warming up to them at first. It was no small feat that he had attached himself to Misaki in any capacity, and the teen knew it.

He missed even silly things by now, like eating breakfast with Haruhiko, watching the man put on his suit for a day of work, or feeling the elder's strong arms cradling him before they went to sleep.

"Do you think he'll ever love me again?" Misaki finally blurted out, the words traveling over his tongue before he could stop them. He stuck his nose in the pillow, suddenly feeling very disconsolate. That was what he was afraid of most, wasn't it? Being unable to repair what he had done.

"I don't think he's stopped loving you," Kisa interjected firmly, patting Misaki on the shoulder. "He's most likely feeling betrayed."

The younger's eyes widened, brimming once more with blinding tears.

"Sorry. I know that's hard to hear but the truth is the best thing I can give you right now. I could sugarcoat it but that's not going to help you any to do that."

Kisa hopped up for a moment, crossing to the bedside table to grab the box of tissues, and then brought them to Misaki, knowing this would probably only be the start of the waterworks, if they were really going to talk this subject out.

"That's what happens, when you go outside of a relationship. You're going against that person in a way; at least that's how they see it. They end up feeling like somehow, they weren't good enough, even if that's nowhere near the truth. We all do stupid things. I love Yukina more than anything in this world; he was my first love, and the only one I'll ever have, but I still... you know what I mean? Because they're hurt, the other person believes that it's their fault, when really it isn't. It's really hard to get past that assumption for them."

Misaki nodded woefully, showing he understood so far. Inwardly, he opined that if that was truly the sort of thought echoing through his Haruhiko's mind, he was afraid of the effect that would have on the elder's self-esteem, which, despite his strong outward appearance, was rather low to begin with.

The youth patted his only barely rounded belly, eying it with a mixed expression. The baby was an unfortunate victim in the middle of this mess, and Misaki deeply regretted that the child had to come into the world at a time like this.

All he could hope was that he would be able to be a good dad to his little one, and that they would love him unconditionally. He worried that the father, whichever man it was, might not exactly be a "sure thing." Haruhiko may never forgive him for what he had done, and Akihiko, as far as Misaki knew, didn't really want to be a father. If the baby arrived safely, would the one whose blood the baby shared step up, even if relations were still tense between Misaki and the two men? Misaki's greatest worry was that he would be left to parent on his own.

"What did you end up doing?"

"We ended up getting married. I... I can't explain it. After time had passed, we reached a point where things felt like they were approaching normal again. From there, it was as if we fell for each other a second time. It was only after then that Yukina re-proposed to me, and by that time I wanted to accept it with all of my heart. It was far from simple. There were many, many times that I thought we were through. I even tried to end it myself once, but Yukina wouldn't let me go. Said we weren't through with each other even if we were mad, or sad about the state of things. Yukina is a romantic. He thinks about it in more extreme terms than other people; that we're soul mates, and that we couldn't really ever leave once we had come to love each other the first time."

There was then a soft knock at the door, causing both males to look over. Yukina stood in the threshold, wearing pajamas that rarely got use and sporting sleep-rumpled hair. The look on the man's face was his typical quiet smile, but his eyes shone with some trepidation.

"Is everything all right?" he voiced, pointing his gaze on Misaki, who after taking a small glance at the source of noise had returned his eyes to the floor.

"Yeah, we were just having a talk is all. Misaki-kun couldn't sleep well tonight so I thought it might help him to sort some thoughts out so they weren't weighing on his mind."

"Ah, so that's it. Well, I hope you're feeling a bit better, Misaki-san. Actually, I think I know what might also help. I was going to have some tea in the kitchen, would you like to join me?"

Still staring at the carpet, Misaki answered with a quiet, "Okay."

"Go ahead and rest for a few minutes; I still have to make it after all. Come when you are ready."

Misaki nodded, not moving from his perch. ' _Hopefully he'll find it in him to come out of the room at all_ ,' Kisa thought.

"Kisa-san, can you come help me get it started?" Yukina shot him an easily translated look and he stood up at it, understanding the reasons why.

"I guess. Man, there's never enough sleep in this house. Just a lot of tea and coffee." Kisa laughed dryly at his own remark and followed Yukina out of the room.

**. . . . . .**

"You should be asleep," he stated bluntly, once they had migrated further away from the guest room.

Yukina glanced over one shoulder, offering some resistance to the claim with an excitable grin. "I knew you were home. I could sense it, and I don't want to waste the time you're at home. So I don't mind waking up in the middle of the night, or the day, or whenever you come home at. I just want to be around you, every day, and every night."

The elder blushed red on the spot. He blamed it on his fatigue to save his pride, but the truth was hearing words like that always took him aback, and set his heart to beating fervently. A man couldn't handle such sentiments, especially paired with a shining face like that; it was just lunacy to expect composure!

"S-Sorry to be coming in so late, then," Kisa muttered in embarrassment, mainly to himself, as the other had faced forward once more. He had to shake his head a little to clear it at that point.

By the grace of some power above, he made it safely to the kitchen, in one piece, and ready for the barrage of questions he was certain would be forthcoming.

"How was work?"

Kisa was immediately puzzled. He had been certain the tea was half a ploy to get a chance to talk to him about what the conversation with Misaki had been concerning, and now Yukina was going to change the topic to work instead?

"What about what just happened? I thought you would be curious about that."

"Everything in its own time, Shouta-san," Yukina reminded him, "I haven't forgotten, but right now I want to hear about you. Did anyone give you trouble this round? I'm only guessing because of the hours you've been away."

"You mean days?" Kisa sighed wearily. "Yes, there was a bit of a problem in that Morimoto decided to have one last burst of berserk before she retires."

"She's retiring?"

"We'll see. I think she's actually serious about it this time. According to her, it's the perfect place to go out without leaving any loose ends, since she's finished this storyline finally. I suppose we should be glad she wasn't set on leaving the past couple times she's tried to; we would have had the worst sort of cliffhanger then, the type that never gets resolved. The fans would have been really upset." He leaned against the kitchen counter next to where Yukina was, counting his blessings on that much.

"However, just because it's the last, doesn't mean she wanted to go down easy. Figures."

"But you made it all right, and I am sure it turned out wonderful. I can't wait to read the chapter. When the issue comes out, I'll take the girls out to the bookstore and get it straightaway. Is it going to be on schedule this month?"

"More or less. I wasn't the last one to leave the office, so I'm not sure. Ricchan still had a manuscript coming, and who knows. Takano-san and he stayed, so maybe between the two of them it will work out in time. If not, it's probably only going to be a day late. They wouldn't keep people waiting that long for the final installment, and Morimoto isn't the only one who's finishing up an arc this month."

"That is true." A hand landed near his shoulder, gently rubbing his arm, "But that's the one I'm most excited to see."

Kisa blushed at the tone of the statement; Yukina's voice was like liquid silk at times, and he couldn't help how the way it sounded made him feel.

It was probably silly to get such a boost from a simple reassurance, but those worked the best for Kisa anyhow. At such times, he entertained harebrained thoughts like, ' _Even if no one else does, if Yukina appreciates my work, then that's enough_.' Obviously that was ludicrous, but he was a sorry specimen so he took it all in stride. It also didn't hurt to feel the physical encouragement of being massaged, but that inspired a different brand of reaction entirely.

Kisa turned, wrapping his arms around the man and giving into temptation. Even if it had only been a handful of days, he still missed Kou. Whenever he was around the younger, that was when he felt the happiest, so it was hard to be apart for too long. Unlike certain other duos he could mention, they did not work together, so he saw less of his husband than he wanted to. This had the effect of making him turn into one sad sap when he did get to be at home. Not that Yukina ever minded.

The younger embraced him firmly, one hand sliding under the back of Kisa's shirt to rest against the skin between his shoulder blades. That didn't exactly help him to calm down, but it was as comforting as it was provoking.

"Welcome home, Shouta," he murmured, squeezing Kisa a little as he did so. His heart sped up, and in lieu of responding, he snuggled his head against Kou's chest, willing to just relax and enjoy this.

He turned his vantage upward, eying the man's smiling countenance. It was then that he lost whatever had been keeping him back, and Kisa stood on his toes, summarily capturing those lips with his own.

He kept his eyes open. He loved Yukina's face at any time, but his husband was now holding his gaze with a fervor that almost brought tears to his eyes. As much as it might have helped Misaki for him to talk about the past, it was hard to relive those troubling experiences that they had been through together in the earlier days of their relationship. But now. Now Kou was looking at him while they kissed, and he felt like he had on the day they had become engaged.

Taken back into his heart. Safe again. Fully embraced. Kisa's heart heaved with so many powerful emotions, and it was like a puzzle piece had finally fit into place for him. He wondered if maybe, just maybe, he had never really forgiven himself for what had gone on a few years ago, and if at last, he had.

Right now, he wanted to touch him, and be touched by him.

"Kou..." he began quietly, tone a bit grainy from the things he was holding back. The named wasn't entirely listening. Yukina nuzzled their lips together, sending a small frisson rolling through his system at the tickling sensation it brought.

Kisa took the hint and parted his, allowing the younger to slip his tongue past the usual defenses. They mingled for a few luxuriant moments, sharing each other's warmth, and then angling to deepen the oral embrace. Yukina leaned more on the counter, allowing him to steer him into it. His hand slithered out from beneath Kisa's shirt and rose, tangling into the fullness of the elder's silky black hair. He tugged with calculated force, just enough to elicit a muffled moan out from occupied lips.

Kisa's pulse was starting to heat up, and so it came as a complete roadblock when he heard the soft sounds of steps nearby; both of their heads turned at the interruption.

Misaki had finally made his way to the kitchen, if looking a bit woebegone, and his demeanor was that of utter fragility, like he would burst at any moment.

"Oh, my apologies," Yukina kowtowed, trying to play off what Misaki had walked into. Kisa noticed that his hand never left his side though, and that boon made him happy.

"No." Misaki ducked his head, scrubbing at one watery eye. "It... it's good to see that... ah-um-" he trailed off, his voice saturated with sudden emotion, causing the lines to tremble as he uttered them. He stumbled with the words, smiling, but appearing ready to sob once more. "It's good to see that you two... l-love each other. You know, despite... those things. I... I'm happy for you. Th-thank you."

At that labored pronouncement, his lover surged forward instinctively. Some might say it was a fatherly thing to do, but that wasn't entirely correct. It was a  _Yukina_ thing to do.

Kisa watched as he took the boy up in his arms, pressing the youth's crying face into his shoulder and rubbing soothingly down his back. Misaki's shoulders heaved, and he held his arms unflinchingly at his sides.

He turned on his heel and grabbed a cup from the cupboard, poured a hot stream of tea into it, and added an ice cube from the box to cool it. Kisa wasn't great with that touchy-feely kind of comforting, but he thought he could be helpful in this way. He walked nearer, and Yukina nodded toward the kitchen table, still holding the younger man to him. He placed the cup over there, and, not really knowing what else he could do, he sat in one of the chairs.

"Misaki-san, would you like some tea? It's nice and warm, and it might help to sit down for a moment, too. I know this is... very difficult, but you need to try and keep your stress down as much as you can, for the baby's sake."

"R-right. That's right. Um, um I..." the brunet trailed off, staring forlornly at the other, whose amber eyes crinkled as he conjured up a calm smile.

"Just sit down. I believe Kisa-san has already fixed a cup for you."

He took the boy by the arm, and led him over to the nearest vacant chair at the table, and helped him to sit. Misaki's emeralds shifted to the floor, but his hands stayed firmly around the cup he was given, skin soaking in the warmth from the drink. He seemed to be lost now in thought rather than emotion, and for the couple, that seemed at least like a step in the right direction. Better to be thinking the situation through than to be drowning in one's own despair and not solving a single thing.

"You know... the worst part is..." he paused, brow furrowing as he considered his words more carefully. Misaki then shook his head, amending, "Not the worst part. I don't want to say it like that, but..."  
  
Curtailing his speech once more, his features twisted into a look of deep concentration. Neither of the other two at the table dared interrupt until the impending words were freed from his lips. Only then would they know how to reply, besides. Neither wished to say anything that would stir the boy's conflicted emotions even more. **  
**

"We were trying to have a baby, since we got engaged onward, I mean. We would have been married before he or she would be born so it didn't seem like a big deal to start trying then. Haruhiko-san was so hopeful." Misaki smiled briefly at his cup, but the expression was fleeting and soon erased itself from his features. "Not that every time wasn't good, but every time we would..." he paused awkwardly, waving his free hand as if attempting to banish that which embarrassed him, "it felt special somehow. Different, maybe."

"I know the feeling," Yukina sighed, and the dreamy look he wore made Kisa want to curl up and die a little. Beauty truly was a sin. At times his shining face was too much to take, even if they were married and had been together as a pair for several years. "It was the same way before we had the girls."

"It feels as if... that it will never be that way again." Misaki's voice filled the air almost ominously. His tone prior had been slow and measured, but here it was coldly clear.

Being so negative about something he once cherished wasn't something he wished to do, but what choice did he have? He knew what his ultimate fate was, and he knew Haruhiko-san most likely would never forgive him, let alone return to his side.

"I've ruined everything, and what's even worse is, I don't know if I did any of this for a good reason. I'm confused what I feel for Usagi-san, so I don't know what to do to move forward. A part of me wants to accept his offer, because maybe it's true, maybe I could love him, and maybe this baby is his." He heaved another sigh, once more feeling his emotions tangle. "But then I wonder if that's only because Haru-san will never take me back."

"Well," Kisa butted in, ready to ask the question that had been on his mind ever since Yukina had told him why someone would be staying in their home, "How did it happen? What made you do things with the guy to begin with?"

Beside him, his husband's eyes widened. "Kisa-san! I don't think-"  
  
"It's okay," Misaki answered softly, "I may as well say how since I've said everything else."

"Usagi-san, before we ever even met, loved my brother." Cringing a little at the reality of the situation, the brunet reluctantly continued to narrate his tale. "But when my brother announced that he was getting married, I could tell the news devastated Usagi-san. Though he pretended otherwise at the time, I could see his heart had broken, despite the fact that he probably expected it to happen. They'd been friends for a long time, and he'd known that nii-chan was dating someone, so he had to have thought it might happen eventually. Even still, I think he hoped it wouldn't, so when it did, it was too much for him to handle."

"I guess I comforted him that night, but I barely knew him. So I was surprised when he came to visit me a while later, saying that he wanted us to be friends. I believed that, and we did spend some time together before anything... happened that wasn't okay. But one day, Usagi-san came over and kissed me. He told me he was falling for me, and asked if just once, we could be together so he knew what it felt like to be with someone he truly loved."

"I know it's stupid, but at the time, I thought that's how it was. That there was nothing wrong with helping a friend not feel lonely, and it was only to be for one time... but..." He paused to exhale another shaky breath, knowing his words weren't as clear as he wished for them to be. "A-After that, every time I'd try to end it, we'd end up doing it again. I don't even know how long it might have gone on if Haru-san hadn't found out."

As the sordid tale drew to a close, Kisa glanced sideways at his lover. He was almost certain that Kou was thinking along the same line as he was right now. After hearing everything even in brief, the only thing he could conclude was that Misaki was naive. Perhaps the boy realized that, but the fact remained that he'd allowed himself to continue an affair that he knew was wrong, most likely because he was confused. Unsure of whether he'd grown to love the man he was stepping out with.

"Misaki-kun, I don't want to come off as rude, but, I think that at least that first time, he was taking advantage of your pity," the raven spoke bluntly. Though he didn't want to sound mean, he also didn't want to lie to the kid. It sounded like he'd been manipulated enough as it was, and Kisa preferred honesty nine times out of ten. "I can't speak for what's in his heart, but even if he loves you, that's not the way he should have gone about things."

Laying his hands out on top of the table, he studied the splay of his fingers, trying to come to terms with what he was going to say. It went against his principles, at least a little, to even suggest that the kid accept the courtship of a man like that, but it was Misaki's life and his decision alone.

"If you decide to get together with him, I think there's a lot that you need to discuss. You can't let him act so immaturely. But, first of all, you need to think very carefully about what your real feelings are. I'm kind of skeptical that you would have come to love him under those conditions. Maybe it can still happen in the future, but over the course of a few weeks while you're all messed up inside because you know what you're doing is wrong? I doubt it."

Yukina nodded, realizing no matter how harsh the elder's words may have been, they were spot on.

"...Kisa-san is right. Since everything right now is a mess, to avoid making it any worse, it'd be better if you were sure what you're feeling. If you love the crown prince, or not. Don't let even the baby influence you at this point. You need to get your head on straight before you can start fixing anything." He paused, summarily adding, "If you don't mind, there's something I want to say though."

Glancing over at his host, Misaki acquiesced, all the while letting his mind go blank, the better to try and analyze the truth.

"Love isn't wanting to help someone. I mean, of course you would want to help the person you love if they needed it, but it's so much more than that. Just feeling sympathetic isn't the same as having true feelings. Granted I am an outsider, but I think that you were confusing what you felt, and you honestly thought that you might have been falling for his highness. But... when it was revealed, you realized that wasn't the case, and the damage had been done, unfortunately."

"Misaki," Yukina added on, "let me ask you a question or two, all right?"

The younger nodded his head, still rapt with attention.

"Other than yourself, who is the first person you think of when you wake up in the morning?"

Misaki wracked his brain for examples, thinking back to this morning, and some of the ones before everything had gone awry. His mind was usually pretty clear in the early hours of the day, being more of a morning person than a night owl, and the rumored just-awake haze that many people experienced was nothing he had ever gone through himself. If he had to say, some of his first thoughts were basic ones - ' _What do I have to do today? Wow, the room is cold. Haru-san must have already got up to start working; he's not in bed..._ '

As he worked up to more recent days, the youth began to get the tremble of before back. He had to wonder if all the stress that he was going through didn't have a large influence on his inner monologue. Still, there was a common answer no matter where he looked, a specific person that occupied his musings for better or for worse.

"H-Haru-san," Misaki admitted, "I think about him a lot."

"Okay, and when you think about the prince, what are some of the things you think about? What are you feeling when you see him in your mind's eye?"

Misaki froze at the question. What _did_ he think about Usagi-san? Ever since they had done... that, he had pondered on his feelings for the elder, wondering if maybe he did feel a bit of love toward the other.

"I... like Usagi-san. Please don't think me hor-... I... It's just, I know it was my choice to do what I did, and I wouldn't have allowed it to go on if I hated him. He may seem like the ultimate villain in this situation, but it's not that way. I can feel that Usagi-san... loves me, but, if I'm being honest, I don't think that I... match those feelings. He's not quite a friend, not quite a lover." Misaki expelled a short gust of air in frustration, grasping for the correct term somewhere in his mind, but no inspiration came through. All he could think to sum it up in the end was, "He's just... Usagi-san. A part of my life no matter what part that is."

"I know, but don't forget that in the end, you can't have both, even if that's what your heart wants. For their sake, if nothing else, you have to make a choice," Kisa replied patiently.  
  
"Yeah, I know I need to," the youth concurred, "but I guess I still don't know yet which one it is. Not to mention it feels weird to even think of choosing after what I did. I don't feel like I have the right to do that, but then I can't accept Usagi-san's proposal just because he's the only one who wants me. That wouldn't be fair to him. I have to think about it properly first."

At the last of his words, Misaki's eyes drooped. Aside from the exhaustion he had undergone, this conversation had proven to tire him as well. He yawned, gathering Yukina's alert gaze, who placed a hand on his shoulder.  
  
"Misaki-san, you should go to bed. You look like you'll pass out any moment." Laughing faintly, the cinnamon-haired male shared, "As Kisa-san can attest, being pregnant made me pretty sleepy too. I'd even take naps in the middle of the day just so I didn't feel like I'd collapse on my feet later. You've been through a lot today, so I think you owe yourself a little rest. Shall we all go?"

As if displaying his agreement, the boy stood from the table, consequently stumbling as his tired form impaired his movement. Figuring they'd all be able to rest better if he made sure their guest got safely into bed, Yukina regained his height, reaching out to guide the boy back down the hall. A few minutes later, having completed his task successfully, the artist exited the guest bedroom to find his husband waiting just outside.  
  
"You didn't have to wait for me," Kou pointed out, flashing the man a smile regardless. "I was headed to our room as soon as I was done."  
  
"I did it because I wanted to," Kisa interjected, a small blush generating on his cheeks. "End of story." His shy expression morphed into a pout as the other swooped closer to press a kiss to his flustered face. Seriously considering scolding the sneak attack, the raven was caught off guard again by the next words out of his lover's mouth.

"Uwah, Kisa-san.. he's so young! I mean, he tries really hard, and perhaps he's responsible, but that's what he is when it gets right down to it - young."

"You were too, when I put you through all that drama."

Kisa stared at the floor regretfully.

It was hard seeing someone go through the same cycle he had once been torn up in. Everyone involved was human - it hurt all sides when one partner cheated, even the one who made that misstep. It may not seem logical to have sympathy for the transgressor, but being that he had been in that position, he knew the way it clawed at someone once the dominoes had fallen. Misaki didn't just have a broken-hearted partner to deal with either. He had a child on the way whose father he wasn't and couldn't be sure of. He was inordinately glad that their own daughters had been born later, into a happy dynamic.

Yukina didn't have an answer for that sullen statement, except to say, "I grew up a lot when Kisa-san did that." 

Hearing that made his bitterest emotions threaten to resurface, but the raven tucked them neatly away, reminding himself of who he was then and now. As much as he might have wanted to spend eternity atoning, that was unrealistic. The best thing that he could do moving forward was be the partner that Kou truly deserved. As much as a shrimpy, middle-aged guy like himself could, anyway.

"But we've _both_ come a long way. I can tell, because now you can talk about that stuff, Kisa-san. I don't think you would have been able to even a year ago."  
  
Caught off guard by his lover's response, Kisa gazed up in bewilderment before seeking to sate his curiosity.

"So.. how much did you hear of that?"

Yukina tapped one willowy digit against his chin, pondering. He then perkily announced, "Oh, but that's my little secret, Shouta-san. Regardless... I think it helped the both of you to talk about those things. I'm proud of you for doing it. Misaki-san, I believe, was beginning to honestly lose hope, but this seems to have boosted him up, which is all I could ask for. He's a nice guy, that's my opinion, even if he did what he did."

Kisa huffed. "You sure are getting independent lately. Now I can't remember if I said anything embarrassing you might have heard, because you refuse to tell me where you came in at."

"There wasn't anything embarrassing."

He slumped against the man, muttering petulantly, "Better not have been anything." Yukina wrapped one arm around the elder, the second prying his head up by placing his fingers under Kisa's jaw. This surprised the other a little, not having anticipated the change in mood, that familiar spark in his husband's eyes that told him he was being adored.

"Kou-." He said it almost as a question, nuzzling into the hand that cupped his face.

Yukina smiled sweetly. "Come on, love. It's time for me to put you to bed, too."

**END CHAPTER.**


	23. Enjoy The Silence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Characters/Pairings:** Tero [Part One]; Nostalgia [Part Two].
> 
> Chapter title taken from the song originally by Depeche Mode, but I'm more partial to covers of it, particularly the ones by Anberlin or Denmark & Winter. Listen to it while reading the Nostalgia section if you want to cry (hahaha... but I'm only half kidding).

* * *

  **. . . TERO . . .**

 **(** October 2nd, 2012 **)**

* * *

 

Patience wasn’t among his strongest values – it never had been. Shinobu’s brand of patience was comprised more out of stubborn resolve than anything else; it was his desire to never to let go of his goals that made him see them through. Waiting quietly and believing things would work out somehow wasn’t his style. But, ironically enough, it was the more traditional definition of patience that the blond could have used at that moment.

Less than an hour. It wasn’t so long a period to wait, but with each minute that dripped down through the hourglass, each new one seemed to pass slower than the last. The nerves lodged in his stomach flourished as time went on, leading him to twist his hands in each other just to try to alleviate some of the unfriendly sensation. He tried to tell himself that everything was going fine, but his mind had gone conveniently deaf to soothing words.

Glancing ahead at the mirror, Shinobu studied his reflection, scowling at what he absorbed. His features were wan with mounting anxiety, drained of any complementary color. Granted he wasn’t one to think highly of his looks on a normal day, but that morning he felt he couldn’t have looked any worse. And of all days, too!

October 2nd… a day that he’d held dear, and one he would forevermore. The day he’d taken that bold step and kissed Miyagi’s sleeping form, long before the man stooped to return his love. Now, it was going to be a day they could both treasure. Their wedding day.

Shinobu tried not to frown. In all honesty, he'd worried that this day would never materialize. When he had first approached Miyagi with the crown prince’s acceptance to their engagement, the man had been repulsed. 

And despite how ardently and how repeatedly he had endeavored, Shinobu couldn't convince him they belonged together. Miyagi didn’t believe in destiny, nor did he care to listen to how the blond knew he was the one he was fated to be with. In fact, he had treated him horribly, maybe just as awful as his family had when Shinobu announced his proposal to them. Especially his sister who had apparently deluded herself that even though they were divorced that she retained a claim on the older man.  
  
But as difficult as everything had been, all of his persistence had been worth it. In the end, Miyagi realized that he too was in love, and that his early actions had ensued out of fear. He'd been trying to defend himself against his heart, against the truth. Who the hell knew which. All that mattered to Shinobu was that in the end, he had gained the man's affection.  
  
A sudden knock caused him to glare into the mirror, the door sliding open before he could even grant permission.

"Oi, brat. A note from your groom," Hiroki greeted, thrusting the missive into the youth's hands.

"Why are _you_ delivering it? Why do I have to see you this early in the morning anyway?" Shinobu griped, eying the other professor suspiciously as he received the scrap of paper.

It was a folded piece of thick, higher-quality paper; the kind that would be used to print important documents on. That fact, and the whole idea of Miyagi writing some note to him confused Shinobu, maybe even unnerved him a little more than he already felt. It took all his mettle to discount the idea that this was some sort of farewell letter. Miyagi wouldn't be so cowardly as to run off.

Besides, for once, Shinobu had decided to be optimistic and trust in his soon-to-be husband.

It had been a long road to get to where they were standing today, and if they'd somehow survived all those trials (a part of his mind recalled the lion's share of their issues being due to the elder's reluctance), a few more minutes of waiting was nothing. Soon enough, they'd seal a bond that would tie them together for the rest of their lives. He wasn't about to start doubting him now.

"Take it. The dork insists he can't see 'the bride' before the wedding. I'm guessing he meant you, but in any event, he wrote you a little love letter and told me to bring it to you. Just read the thing and take it off my hands."

> _Shinobu,_
> 
> _I_ _wanted to take this opportunity to make sure that you were enjoying the day to the fullest. I know that you're excited about a lot of things, but this is something you can't experience again, so please be sure to "smell the roses" so to speak._
> 
> _I will be taking in every moment, but you have to remember for me as well, so that you can tell me all about our wedding when I'm older and helpless, which, according to you, brat, will be sooner rather than later._
> 
> _I love you the most, and I can't wait to see you walk down that aisle toward me._
> 
> _-Miyagi._

Shinobu's eyes beaded with emotion, and Hiroki watched him appraisingly, noting the sincere feelings bubbling up in the boy. He hunched forward, seemingly re-reading the note for a second time, mouth forming one of the tenderest expressions it had ever worn. It was foreign from what Kamijou knew of the youth's prickly nature, and it convicted him to see.

"You really love him?"

He hadn't meant to say anything, but then, the words had spilled out of their own accord.

If Kamijou was being honest with himself, the professor was what he would consider a friend these days, and he supposed that allowed him to be a little concerned for the man's welfare. At least enough to confirm that none of this was the passing whim of someone half the man's age. From what Miyagi had shared with him about his soon-to-be spouse in the last few times they'd worked together, Takatsuki was an old soul, and enviably certain of what he wanted in life. It was a trait he himself couldn't claim to mirror.

"Yes."

Hiroki turned his gaze away, and squared his shoulders, gruffly uttering, "Good."

With that, he stalked from the small room back into the midst of the chapel. The aging space was all but empty, only a single occupant seated on one of the mahogany pews. Staring ahead almost gratefully, Kamijou made his way to the front to join him.  
   
Taking a seat for the time being, the brunet exhaled softly.

All the while, he could feel the weight of Nowaki's stare on him, reading his every movement with an irrepressible grin plastered on his shining face.

The giant was in a jubilant mood that morning, more than likely stirred up by the idea of attending a wedding. It fell into the realm of the fluffy things that the raven tended to adore, and right now Hiroki couldn't be bothered to burst his bubble. It was harmless, and he wasn't so much of a grinch as to ruin the other man's fun. Truthfully, though he couldn't agree to liking the same things, he could agree that a happy Nowaki was a beautiful vision to behold.

"How are they doing, Hiro-san?"

"Not bad," he answered evenly, "I think the ceremony will go on without either of them bolting, at least."

"Were they nervous?"

"Yes, both, but who wouldn't be? Marriage is essentially chaining yourself to someone for the rest of eternity, at least in theory, if you manage to stay together. It's nothing to take lightly. Miyagi's no spring chicken, but the brat he's marrying is, and I can only hope they realized that when they decided to pull this stunt."

"Takatsuki-kun isn't much younger than me, you know," Nowaki nudged him shoulder-to-shoulder, his smile almost impish. "But Hiro-san doesn't seem to mind my age."

Kamijou's eyes magnified, and rather than the composed response he would've liked to deliver, only spluttering came through. Irked, he wondered what gave Nowaki the brass to make such statements, even though he already knew the cause in his heart. He just didn't want to own up to it, that was all. In any case, he wasn't going to sit idly by and be teased when he knew full well the reaction the other was trying to elicit out of him.

"You're different, moron. And our ages aren't that far apart, so it's nothing like them."

"And what about me is different?" the younger continued coyly.

Pursing his lips, Hiroki pondered the question, carefully selecting the words that would indubitably ring in the other's head for weeks to come. He was far from good at expressing himself when it came to topics like these, and it was rare that he surrendered his pride enough to answer them in a genuine manner. But when he did, he wanted to get it right. Even if he didn't exactly have words to designate what Nowaki meant to him, he could easily tell him what about him was special. There was no dearth of reasons why the raven was dear to him.

"Because you're more than just some brat..." he paused to allow inspiration to take hold, settling on what he would name. "I respect you, Nowaki."

The phrase was arduous for him to get out, and he spoke it slow, pushing through the reservations in his brain to make sure he finished. Nothing about it was a falsehood; he simply wasn't used to giving a compliment, but he'd do so when and were praise was merited. On this occasion, his hope was that his sentiment would shine through despite his bare bones response. Truthfully, Kamijou knew that alongside his esteem, he had deeper feelings for the youth at his side, and perhaps one day he would be able to make those heard as well. For now, this would do.

Casting his sienna gaze to his right, the professor checked to see what reaction his admission had wrought.

Kusama was faintly beaming, face pointed downward as if trying to rein himself in. When his head turned to return the stare, Hiroki's heart traitorously took to pounding against his ribs, the mellow expression his lover was wearing setting his pulse on fire. It wasn't one of his trademark dorky grins, but one that spoke of deep contentment, the raven's lips slightly upturned at each end and his eyes brighter than their typical cloudy blue.

"Coming from you, Hiro-san, that's high praise."

Nowaki stared at him fondly, their gazes locked for several peaceful moments. The younger male then leaned in closer, draping an arm around the elder's shoulder and tugging him to rest against one edge of his broad chest.

Stunned into submission, the brunet relinquished himself to the warmth radiating from the other's body, and the familiar scent that was his alone. Both stimuli imbued him with a sense of calm, yet curiously his heart refused to cease its clamor. More than ever, he felt out of control when it came to his faculties, a painful tightening in his chest that he'd never felt before taking root.

"Nowaki... what are you... doing?" he queried, feeling his throat lock up as numerous emotions welled inside him.

"We have a few minutes until the ceremony begins, don't we?"

"True enough."

Hiroki couldn't deny the facts, even if doing so would extract him from an embrace that felt so painfully divine that he wanted to run from it.

**. . . . .**

"Ready, Shinobu-tan? It's showtime for you, unless you've changed your mind somehow in the last couple minutes," Isaka commented, his teasing flavored a bit milder than the usual. He offered up his arm to the blond whom he'd be giving away in a few moments' time.

It was a strange thing on the elder's end, and he even felt a little emotional despite his collected facade. Shinobu was a pal, but almost kind of like his kid on this particular day, which of course made him think about his sons. Ryuuichirou couldn't imagine handing either of them off to someone else, though he knew it would probably happen one day, preferably far, far in the future.

"Of all days, of all times, don't ask me that now. This is happening."

Chuckling served as his response, and he linked their arms together, properly readying them for the walk they had to take.

Exiting the room, they made their way toward the quiet hallway to stand before the still closed doors. Shinobu exhaled, peering over at the one he was linked with, who only offered him another grin in return.  With a roll of his eyes, he listened as the music from inside resounded, vibrating against the portal they were waiting in front of.

And then a second later, they parted, giving him a broad view of the several souls that had decided to be witness to his and Miyagi’s special day. He felt a small squeeze and realizing the elder had taken his hand, as if aiming to reassure him. Shinobu shook himself free, scowling at the other man’s amused expression and then relinked their arms as they began the walk down the white lace trail that had been put out for him.  
  
How girly could you get? He knew Miyagi wanted a more traditional wedding, but this was going past the point of what was acceptable. If he didn't love the dolt as he did, he never would have agreed to this old-fashioned quirk.

In days long past, brides had walked down similar paths before reaching the altar, but in most cases they were female. Few of those in same-sex relationships kept the tradition, but he'd go through with it. After all, he knew it was nothing more than Miyagi's way of playing with him; it wasn't meant in any negative vein.

Shinobu knew the march had to be slow, but Isaka was ambling along far too leisurely for his liking. Nudging the other in the ribs, Shinobu hoped it was enough of a hint for him to speed it up. And thankfully, it was. Once they reached the altar, Miyagi was standing there, and he was incredibly nervous from what the blond could suss. He waited as Isaka parted from his side to guide his hand into Miyagi's proffered one and presented himself to him.  
  
“Miyagi-san.” Isaka stood before the raven, bestowing him with a soft smile. “Take care of my little Shinobu, here,” his lips twisted in a sinister cast, “Because if you don’t, I will personally turn your life into a living hell.”  
  
The elder groom swallowed hard, nodding his head slowly to show he understood the task being laid at his feet. Next to him, Shinobu rolled his eyes, reaching forward to kick Isaka in the leg.  
  
“Get out of here before I kill you.”

A meager threat to a man that had a higher than average tolerance for Shinobu’s temper. Isaka remained in place, bringing forth another glare from the irritated blond before he was yanked back by his husband, who had suddenly appeared out of nowhere. Giving the soon-to-be spouses a small grin, he allowed Asahina to drag him to where their seats were located. To Shinobu’s annoyance, it wasn’t far from the altar, or him, for that matter.  
  
“Don’t cause a scene,” Asahina hissed in his ear, earning a mischievous grin in return. “I mean it, Ryuuichirou. Can’t you sit through something important without acting like an child for once?”  
  
Isaka pouted. “But Kaoru, I was only telling him to take care of him. Little Shinobu has been through enough, and he was definitely one to-”  
  
“Enough!” the blond on the dais snapped in their direction. “Shut up, or I’ll kick you out.” He turned to the official who would conduct their ceremony. “Get a move on with it.”

After that last interruption, the hour passed rather quickly, but not quick enough for Shinobu. He knew what was being spoken was of importance, but quite frankly, he didn’t care. The main part he wished to hear was far ahead, and if they kept up this snail-like pace, it would be nightfall by time he got to pledge his love to Miyagi in front of everyone else. Glancing to his side, he noticed his lover was engrossed in the ceremony, eyes glazed over and maybe a tear forming in his indigo depths.  
  
To see that his joy was shared made the youth beyond ecstatic.  
  
But then finally, after what seemed like eternity, it was time for one of the moments he had been long awaiting. The other would hopefully follow soon after. Turning toward Miyagi, he held his hand within his and gazed into his watery orbs, trying not to roll his own at the sentimental fool that was about to become his husband.  
  
"I, Shinobu, take you, Yoh, to be my husband, and these things I promise you: I will be faithful to you and honest with you; I will respect, trust, help, and care for you; I will share my life with you, and I will try with you to better understand ourselves and the world through the best and worst of what is to come, for as long as we live."

The smile Yoh gave him made his heart pound loudly. Shinobu cursed when his cheeks ignited, scowling before turning to the side to attempt to regain his composure. He listened as Miyagi was then tasked to echo the vows, as he had done, and then felt his left hand being raised aloft.  
  
"I, Yoh, take you, Shinobu, to be my husband, and these things I promise you: I will be faithful to you and honest with you; I will respect, trust, help, and care for you; I will share my life with you, and I will try with you to better understand ourselves and the world through the best and worst of what is to come, for as long as we live."  
  
His heart once more was pounding vigorously, the love in Miyagi’s eyes clearly shining through. If this didn’t end soon, he would end up humiliating himself with wanting to throw himself into the man’s arms and allowing him to hold him in his warm embrace. His foot tapped against the polished surface, awaiting the one who held the rings to be before them and move onto the moment he'd most been anticipating.

Taking one of the rings from the pillow, Shinobu once more raised Miyagi’s hand, sliding the gold band onto his digit.  
  
“I, Shinobu, give to you, Miyagi, this ring, as a symbol of my commitment to love, honor, and respect you.”

It was then Miyagi’s turn, his shaking hand sliding the same ring on the blond’s fourth finger.  
  
“I, Yoh, give to you, Shinobu, this ring, as a symbol of my commitment to love, honor, and respect you.”  
  
Their hands remained linked, Shinobu gazing up into the elder’s eyes. The preacher was taking far too long to close this ceremony, and he was ready to walk out those doors with Miyagi right then, out into their future.  
  
“Then by the power vested in me…”  
  
Shinobu drowned out the rest of the words, ears perked for the ones he most desired.  
  
“You may kiss one another.”

Without bothering to wait for any more confirmation, Shinobu grabbed Miyagi’s collar and yanked him forward, more toward his level. Miyagi protested at first, eyes widened and arms splayed out as his lips were ensnared, but then slowly relaxed under the silken texture of the small blond’s mouth. In turn, Shinobu released the fabric to loop his arms around the raven's neck, standing on his toes to match his height as best as he could.  
  
The preacher glanced at his watch, awaiting for the two to come up for air, but a sudden noise of someone clearing their throat was then heard.  
  
“Hiro-san,” Nowaki whispered, “You shouldn’t do that. It’s not nice to interrupt.”  
  
“It’s supposed to be a simple kiss! I didn’t come to watch a show.”

Embarrassed by the words echoing around him, Miyagi was the one to divide their connection. The blond scowled in return, slate eyes narrowed in the professor’s direction, knowing he had orchestrated their division. Shinobu huffed, turning around to face the preacher, and then nodded for him to finalize the ceremony.  
  
“You are now united as one. May your bond never be severed.”

**. . . . .**

Miyagi couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so content with his life. He'd never been particularly _unhappy_ , but the sense of peace that had taken hold within him lately was unprecedented. Laying in his bed with one lanky blond draped over his chest left him boneless and free of worry; with each shift of Shinobu's hand against him, or each gentle breath that echoed near to his ear, he landed deeper into an almost dreamlike state.  
  
Given how quickly they'd cobbled together the plans for their union, he hadn't been able to set aside any free time for a honeymoon. That fact seemed to concern Shinobu far less than it did him; he'd wanted the occasion to be special. But if his new husband was satisfied, then that would just have to suffice for him. They had all the time in the world to travel together, perhaps they'd be able to fulfill that dream later on.

Still, he wanted to be certain there wasn't any more that he could do.

Carding his fingers slowly through the honeyed strands of the boy's hair, Yoh pondered how to ask without making it seem that he was bothered. That wasn't his intention. Another development in the elder's thinking was that more and more, he found himself acutely worried over the balance between them, and whether he was putting enough into the relationship. Shinobu had always been the driving force in it from the beginning, but he wanted to be better than his previous self, the one who'd driven his lover to tears many a time because he felt rebuffed.

"Was everything today how you wanted it, Shinobu-chin?" he inquired lowly, violets tilting to meet the curious gray stare that surfaced.

The youth slithered out from his spooning hold, angling to sit beside the elder on the mattress. Once he was adequately perched, he turned to the man, face set in a serious cast.

"Yeah, it was how I dreamed. Though all I ever wanted was to be yours."

At the words, Yoh's heart began pumping harder, the weight thick in his chest as the sentiment hit him full force. One day he was going to have to get used to his lover's talent at catching him off guard, but he was old. It was hard to break the habit. Shinobu was eons too passionate when he spoke; Miyagi had never met another person who could match the sincerity and feeling the boy could educe from a few words, delivered as bluntly as they often were. That was seemingly something only Shinobu knew how to do.

A wavering smile dawned on his lips, the line rippling due to his erratic state. He opened his mouth, but no response was forthcoming. He wasn't sure what he could say to that.

"Miyagi, I love you," the blond whispered then, tone mellifluous. He pitched forward, touching his mouth to the raven's in one determined swoop. "Thank you for choosing me."

Breaking free, Yoh had to laugh. "Don't you think that ought to be my line? Thank _you_ for choosing this old guy, Shinobu-chin. I think we both know who the real hero in this story is. And it certainly isn't me."

Returning his hand to the soft vantage of the boy's hair, he ruffled the silken locks before placing a chaste kiss on the tip of his nose. Now that he'd given himself permission to let the feelings that he'd long held grow roots, he'd never tire of touching the one in front of him. Persnickety and troublesome as the other could be, Shinobu was definitely the light in his life these days. He wouldn't discard that light for anything.

"I have something I want to give you."

Turning to the drawers at his bedside, Shinobu rifled through them for a spell before pulling out a slender box wrapped in red paper. Hesitating for a moment, he clenched the gift in his hands, trying to ease his heart rate when it began to react to his frazzled nerves. Realizing Miyagi was most likely staring at him, he handed it over to him without meeting his eyes, instead glancing at his lap.

"You didn't need to get me anything," the older man replied, weighing the gift in one hand as he presented his groom with a look of polite bewilderment.

"I wanted to. Just open it already and stop whining," the blond huffed, crossing his arms archly over his bare chest.

Heeding the command, Miyagi's fingers worked at the wrapping, carefully separating it from the box underneath. He paused in pulling open the lid, indigo orbs shifting to the quiet blond beside him. Shinobu seemed nervous in giving him this gift, almost hesitant, and he couldn’t help but wonder why. His curiosity was growing with each passing second, and he quickly returned to freeing what the box beheld. Once he'd succeeded, he pulled the top off the package, uncovering the object nestled inside.

A gleaming silver watch, clearly new and gleaming in the light, the thinnest hand ticking away the seconds as he stared at it in awe.

Wordlessly, he lifted it out of its confines, holding it up to examine the features closer. "This is very nice, Shinobu," he whistled, turning over the piece and cataloging every aspect. "I've never thought about wearing one, but it would be convenient. Better than pulling out my phone when I want to check the time. It would keep the students from complaining I'm going against the no phone policy they have to adhere to, anyway."

"Do you like it?" his husband inquired, glancing over at him with a nervous expression. Oddly nervous considering it was only a small gift. "Will you wear it?"

"Certainly," Yoh confirmed. "It'd be a waste not to, now wouldn't it? You really gave this gift some thought didn't you?"

Nodding silently, the blond observed him pore over the watch's clasp and clock face, the elder comparing it to the time on their clock at their bedside to ensure it was correct. His stomach churned when he noticed the bewildered expression on his husband’s face. Miyagi seemed to be in deep thought, brows furrowed and hands toying with the dials on the gleaming surface.

Moments passed before the other shoe dropped for him.

"Ah, Shinobu, the time is right but... well, do you still have the manual? I'll just have to reset the date myself. It's for sometime next year."

He happened to glance up at that junction, right as his groom swallowed hard and hesitantly met his gaze. At the strange behavior, Yoh's brows raised with concern.

"Shinobu?" he questioned, worry flooding his senses at how the younger seemed reluctant to answer. What was he building up to? Was there something he'd overlooked in their exchange that had caused his lover to appear so despondent?

"That date.... It's correct, but it's not for what you think it is."

"So what is it for then?"

"Miyagi," Shinobu struggled to speak, voice sounding like he was on the verge of tears. Correspondingly, the elder's hand outstretched, landing on the other's shoulder to grip it. As he'd suspected, there was a faint tremor there, the boy's form shaking mildly as he forced himself to get the words out.

"What's on your watch is my due date."

At those words, the watch nearly slipped from Yoh’s grip. Quick in action, he stopped it from crashing to the floor, his midnight eyes magnified and returning to stare at the small black numbers that wrote out the date. His heart felt light, thundering with joy, but twinged with anxiety. Why had Shinobu kept such a grand secret from him? However, to know that they were now married and expecting their first child brought him an everlasting happiness.  
  
It was then when a sniffle echoed through his ears. Discarding the announcement, his concern shifted to his crying husband.

“Shinobu,” he spoke softly, “Why are you crying? This is good news!”  
  
Though he had been surprised to hear those words, the blond continued to cry. He cursed the magnifying hormones that were most likely tugging on his emotional strings. But whether it was them causing his reaction or the fact he was already well informed Miyagi didn’t want a child so early, it wasn’t stopping the tears any time soon. Shinobu inhaled, accepting the tissue that was being offered to him.

“I didn’t think you wanted one so soon.” He blew his nose, a small squeak trailing behind. “I thought you would think it was too quick since we just got married.”  
  
Miyagi shook his head. “No, Shinobu, not at all. Where did you get an idea like that?” He brushed away the soaked blond tresses that stuck to his husband’s face. “I’m surprised it happened, but by no means am I upset. I wouldn’t get upset over something like that.”  
  
He sighed in relief when his words began to soothe the frazzled blond. He didn’t want to ruffle at his emotions any more, but he was curious to one matter.  
  
“When did you find out?”

“A week or two before the wedding.” He placed a hand on his stomach when a new wave of nausea tumbled through. “I really felt horrible this morning actually, but I wanted to go through it. That’s why I was so pushy. The greatest day of my life, and I wanted it to end quickly because of how sick I felt.” Easing himself back onto the pillows, he tried to prop himself up to soothe some of the queasiness. “I’m about six weeks.”

Miyagi took in the other’s wavering state. Whether it was from the pregnancy or Shinobu relieving the burden of news, the blond seemed conflicted. He reached over to brush a hand along the boy's soft cheek before resting it atop the hand lounging against his stomach. Gracing Shinobu with a gentle smile, he squeezed his hand in comfort.  
  
“It’s going to be fine, Shinobu-chin.” The blond looked up at him. “I’m really thrilled about the whole ordeal. Surprised, but happy.”  
  
Shinobu sniffled, blotting his reddened eyes with another tissue. “Really?”  
  
“Yes, really.”  
  
Carefully pulling the other into his embrace, Miyagi eased Shinobu into a comfortable position at his side. In turn, the blond latched onto him, wrapping his arms around his torso and burying his head into his shoulder. He sniffled a few more times, but eventually he began to calm, slate eyes sliding closed as he allowed the acceptance to console his ruined mind. To know Miyagi wasn’t only accepting about their child, but excited, gave him incredible relief.

Once he was sure the blond was asleep, Miyagi studied him with a small frown. All his life, he had always been around loved ones, those who supported him and lifted him up when he needed a hand.

But for Shinobu, he knew that was the complete opposite. His new husband didn’t get along with any of his family, and him once being involved with his sister made the matter all the more sticky. The blond never had any one there for support, as he wasn’t the best when it came to making friends either, and he knew for sure his family didn’t accept his marriage to him.

As he gazed at the slumbering form, Miyagi couldn’t help but feel remorse. Shinobu had been alone all his life, and knowing he was now pregnant must have scared him ever the more. In knowing that he couldn’t be alone with that difficult journey. Combing aside the stray blond pieces, he thought back at their wedding vows, and realized that was exactly what he was determined to do.  
  
He would never allow Shinobu to feel alone ever again.

 

* * *

   **. . . NOSTALGIA . . .**

 **(** September 14th, 2012 **)**

* * *

 

If they'd finally broached the subject that had mucked things up the most, why weren't they moving forward?

It was a compelling uncertainty Ritsu had to question, forged by one of his most heart-wrenching, earth-shattering memories. After years of avoiding any mention when it came close to grazing the topic, he'd entrusted Takano with the details to shoal in the cracks the other had. To paint the entire picture of how what was most precious to them had been so cruelly snatched.

Part of him had spoken up out of obligation, or rather, guilt. Just because he attempted to resent his former lover over that sordid period of their history, was no reason why he didn't have the right to know the truth. Hinata was his child as well, and, for that notion alone, he couldn't guard the secret any longer. Not without incurring even more guilt along the way. Takano had essentially understood the big picture, but to hear it from his mouth, Ritsu knew made a substantial difference.

But instead of clearing the air as he might have hoped the conversation would, they had reverted to their twisted standard of normalcy. Barely communicating effectively whether at home or at work, as they were two times a week now that Takano was on the mend. Talking to him was no easy feat; Ritsu could feel his throat clam up whenever he had the ill idea to attempt to do so.

Worst of all, he couldn't stop reliving it.

That day and the sheer terror that had besieged his mind once he pieced together what was to happen to him. Pure, unrelenting hatred toward his parents was all he'd felt afterwards - the emotion had been vivid but also frightening in its own right.

Never before had he felt that level of antagonism for someone, and to think that it would be his mother and father he'd feel that for was confusing to him. They hadn't ever been the closest, most intimate family, but the most he'd ever felt, negativity wise, was run-of-the-mill annoyance for how they pushed him to succeed. Fleeting, innocent, and not so atypical for a teenager to feel.

Nothing could compare to his sense of betrayal that day.

He'd wondered back then why they decreed what they had.

Why were they treating the baby like some wretched secret that needed to be swept under the rug? Weren't Senpai and he going to be married anyway? Why wouldn't they just agree to have that happen sooner so that all legal loose ends were tied up? If that's what they were concerned about, it seemed to his former naive self that there were options, options that didn't involve the cessation of a life they'd never been in control of. As he'd grown older, Ritsu had eventually realized it was pride more than any other factor that drove their actions.

On that particular night they'd spoke, he'd shared a kinship with Masamune, which was directly opposed to the way he usually regarded the raven. Going against his principles, Ritsu had fallen asleep in his embrace, content with feeling the light fall of Takano's breaths washing over him as he drifted off into oblivion. Come morning, the trance he'd spent the evening in evaporated.

His defenses promptly rebooted themselves as soon as he reflected and decided his behavior was a lapse in sound judgment, his pliability smacking of weakness.

Onodera couldn't help leaning on someone when his thoughts were captive to such a terrible reality; when he was too barren within to function. Takano had been the only one in proximity to collapse on. That minor detail didn't have to mean their dynamic was permanently altered. So when Masamune's honeyed gaze appraised his upon waking, Ritsu performed the only maneuver he was accustomed to - he ran. Out of bed entirely, and to the sparse haven of the guest bedroom, his heart beating a frantic tempo against the confines of his chest.

The days since then moved with all the vigor of molasses, and produced a similar effect on their tongues, stymieing any notion of exploring that brief bubble of content further. Weeks ebbed by, far too many, and what routine bantering they did circumvented the topic part of Onodera craved to be opened. For once in the time that he'd known Takano, the man was eerily non-domineering. He didn't force the issue; the words never crossed his lips. His body grew stronger, while his mind remained a caged mystery that the brunet had no clue how to comprehend.

And yet, despite how many times he may have tried to avoid the raven, Ritsu knew. There was a well-guarded piece of him that longed for them to get closer, despite his rational half protesting that there were numerous obstacles to that being possible. Some of which were far too painful for him to remember. Aside from the fact Takano was indeed his boss, the real conundrum was their broken past.

He had truly loved Takano back then, but the loss of their child had destroyed him. Though he knew Takano wasn't the one to blame for what happened, what if something that horrible occurred again, or somehow worse if they tried to rekindle their relationship? If he was going to be together with Takano, there was a lot in his own mind that Ritsu knew he had to work through first.

The last thought only made his head throb, the grueling feeling easily competing with the tempestuous condition of his stomach. 

Placing his tools aside for what had to be the fifth time in the last hour, Onodera pressed a hand to the aching area, trying to somehow soothe it. As usual, he had been assigned an artist that was running behind their deadline, and he was the one that ended up carrying the bulk of the stress for this month’s periodical. But that was nothing compared to the turmoil he was experiencing within his own heart lately.

Frustratingly enough, the more he attempted to ignore it, to discount what he was feeling, the more the pains seemed to intensify.

Setting down the storyboard he had been futilely scanning, one of his hands trailed downward, lightly massaging the core of his torso.

' _Why do I feel this way?_ ' Ritsu griped inwardly, ' _I've eaten better than I usually do lately, and it's not like I can help that I don't get as much sleep as some people. I've been doing that since I started working here; it's nothing new, body!_ ' The brunet tried to quell the upset with reasoning, but his interior revolted, seizing him with a heady wave of nausea.

Bolting up from his chair, Onodera started to scurry in the direction of the washroom, praying he'd make it to a safe place to unloose the contents of his stomach. It seemed there was no way of escaping that fate no matter what he tried.

By some grace, he dashed into the bathroom with only a moment to spare, kneeling at one of the stalls and feeling the uncontrollable wave of retching begin. Heat flooded his cheeks, terrorizing his skin as he vomited, refusing to give him any small mercy during. Acidic contents obstructed his breathing, and he rushed to expel the fluid, panic strangling his throat as no air was allowed through.

Several agonizing rounds later, Ritsu gingerly rose from his hunched position. Destroyed by the sheer force of his illness, he rested a moment with his head against the wall, feeling completely enervated. His mind was tense, yet irritatingly blank, providing no viable reasons why any of this had just occurred.

The rancid taste in his mouth was revolting, doing nothing to eliminate the queasiness. His head rested in his clammy hands, elbows propped on his knees as he tried to calm his pounding heart. The sting of acid burned throughout his nose and only added to the misery that was throbbing throughout his head. Pacing his breathing, Ritsu tried to gain a bit of control as his mind explored through his day to uncover what could have caused his body to react this way.

Despite the erratic life he led, he hadn't felt this violently ill since he was.... Slapping a hand to his mouth, Ritsu's emerald gaze magnified, his brain trying in vain to silence the careless thought. ' _No_ ,' he told himself, pinching his lower lip between the edges of his teeth, ' _That has nothing to do with now. It couldn't, and it doesn't. I just need more rest than I'm getting right now, and I will, once the cycle is over. Hold on, body!_ '

His fingers drummed anxiously against the tiled floor, eyes squeezing shut to aide the attempt to cool himself down. An effort that was likely in vain, given the rising cadence of his pulse.

Hunching forward, his head fell into his hands, palms gripping on tight even as he shook his head to clear it.

' _Stop thinking about that, that's not it_ ,' he pleaded with his internal dialogue.

Onodera's thoughts became frantic, memories of days long past invading the front of his mind, the sights playing out behind his vision with no sign of ceasing. Comparatively his breathing grew ragged, each inhale sending a searing pain up the length of his throat, lungs screaming for a simple gust of air. He couldn't seem to catch a satiating breath.

' _No, no, no! There's no way I could be that, please, stop-_ ' a broken sob emerged, accompanied by the sting of tears welling up from within.

His chest constricted even further as the drops rolled down his cheeks, and he felt the nausea seemingly returning, the painful sensations he was feeling calling it back into existence. Shoulders heaving, he tried to curl up against the wall, his thoughts a runaway train that alternated between those bittersweet recollections and a bleak emptiness as he attempted to clear everything out.

He was treading terrifyingly close to his worst fear, so it was hardly a wonder that his body had reacted in kind. Even so, the pain in his chest was becoming too sharp to bear, and he could feel his senses all beginning to dull, consciousness slipping from him with each hard-fought breath. Everything was shutting down. Given what was happening, that came as almost a relief.

Blinking listlessly, his ears caught wind of a garbled voice trying to pull him back into reality.

"Ritsu!"

A flash of black that had to be his boss hovered before him, features greatly distorted through his blurred vision. In his haze, Onodera could sense his horror though, and each time the man called his name, it grew increasingly frantic.

His body had become numb, the once painful symptoms a fading memory. As the darkness grew closer, it offered him a comforting sense, one that was far better than enduring the light. And then, with one last whisper of Takano's name, Ritsu surrendered to the darkness completely.

**. . . . .**

_'Everything hurts_. _'_

That was Onodera's first thought as he began to rouse, his mind slowly processing the numerous spots on his body that ached. His body felt weighted down like it was buried beneath a crushing force, and there was an abiding sting radiating up one of his arms.

Groaning softly, he slowly let his eyes peel open, revealing a dimly-lit room with that was silent other than the soft whirring of a few machines placed close to his bed.

 _'Bed... where am I exactly?_ ' By the looks of it, he'd somehow landed himself in the hospital. It was one of the last places Onodera wanted to be, but if he thought about it objectively, he understood why he'd been brought here. Passing out like that at work merited a serious response.  
   
The covers of the cool hospital linens rustled as he shifted on his back, noting the I.V. that was feeding into his forearm. That explained the sting. Errantly the brunet wondered if it was medication or not. For all he knew, on top of this mystery illness he was also dehydrated. It wouldn't be the first time he'd needed to get re-hydrated through such means, embarrassingly enough. Probably not the last time either.

Glancing to his other side, he spotted the sole visitor sitting with him. His presence hardly surprised Ritsu; Takano had been the last person with him when this had happened, and given the man's propensity to overreact, he was going to be glued to his side for the remainder of this stay. He wanted to say that was annoying, but truthfully it was more comforting than anything else. Knowing he'd have someone familiar with him until he was able to leave this place was heartening - he wouldn't be alone if his worst fears were confirmed.

Just then, the man looked up from his lap, golden irises assessing Ritsu for several long moments before he spoke.

"How are you feeling?"

"I'm awake, I guess," Ritsu answered slowly, "but I've certainly felt better than I do now."

"They ran a lot of tests while you were asleep," Masamune informed him, eyes wearisome and almost puffy now that he was looking at them closer.

Onodera's gaze then drifted to the wall clock, taking note of the obscenely late hour.

Had he really blacked out for so long? Or was there some sort of medical intervention behind his extended rest? It didn't seem unlikely. He'd probably come off as someone who needed it to the staff that was treating him. Still, his heart did an abbreviated skip at piecing together that Takano had to have been at his side this whole time. By the looks of it, the wait had worn the man down to his very limits.

"The results should be ready soon, or they may be already. I doubt they'd tell me because I'm not family," he trailed off acidly, eyes shuttering with remembered frustration. "It was a battle and a half to get them to let me stay with you in here. But I wasn't going to give up."

Ritsu only stared ahead, finding it difficult to form the words. Inwardly, he was filling up with regret. The raven’s tone when he spoke of the war he fought to be by his side was only vitalizing his self-loathing. At one point in his life, Takano would have been family, probably the closest of family he could have had. But that was the past, and this was the present.

Still, he couldn’t suppress his guilt at knowing how much the man was truly enduring, and that he was enduring it solely for him.

When he thought about how he'd treated him, constantly yelling at him or running out when Takano tried to get close, he cringed, and yet here Takano was, once again putting all his needs aside to assure he was taken care of. There were no words that could adequately describe what he felt at knowing there was someone endlessly devoted to him. Though right now, all that persisted was his fear. Even after waking, he felt fully within its grasp and until his suspicions were put to rest, he knew he couldn't escape.

Struggling to sit up, Ritsu found it more of a challenge than he thought. How long had he truly been out, and why did he feel so weak? He nearly jumped when a hand rested on his shoulder, Takano once more by his side to assist him in his time of need. Once he had elevated Onodera into a comfortable position, the raven reached forward to stroke his soft tresses, combing his fingers through in a soothing manner.

"I was so afraid that something was seriously wrong," he whispered mournfully, willowy fingers dipping to brush away stray strands of caramel hair from his forehead. "I can't lose you, not again, Ritsu."

The candor in the elder's words was unmistakable, and the fact that Takano was being so sincere was what drove them home even more. Listening to them, he couldn't help but feel like a burden - he'd caused the man to worry this deeply over him when there was plenty that Masamune had to deal with already. He didn't like that. Not at all.  
  
Dipping his chin, Ritsu began to stew over the realization that had led to his earlier hysteria. It was crazy to think that a simple idea had the power to make him this ill, but with what had transpired in the past, that idea had the capability of wrecking him for good. So much so that his brain hadn't been able to handle the idea that it could be true, and he'd panicked.  
  
Recalling everything now, his sense of guilt felt heavier than ever. Though they hadn't talked like they had a few weeks ago lately, though they hadn't come close to it at all, that talk had happened. A breakthrough happened, and now he couldn't lie to himself and say he didn't comprehend where Takano's mind was at. The man was utterly devoted to him for whatever reason, and apparently had been for over a decade. Knowing those facts, Ritsu could imagine what it must have been like to see him in the state he was, unresponsive and soon afterwards, unconscious. It must have been chilling.  
  
How could he begin to explain why? A piece of him sorely wanted to, ached to alleviate some of the melancholy in the raven's words by filling him in on what the cause of his episode was. Perhaps it wouldn't make Takano feel any better, but at least he wouldn't have to suffer worrying that there was something far more dangerous going on inside him. It was only his mind that was weak.  
  
To accomplish that goal however, would mean baring his soul for the second time since they'd reunited as adults. Trembling, he grasped at straws mentally, trying to formulate the proper words for what he needed to impart.

Onodera lifted his head up, his eyes brimming with tears.

"I'm scared," he admitted pitifully, voice barely audible.

Seeing and hearing that from him nearly broke the other's heart. It was difficult to know how to make the man feel better but that was all Takano wanted to do in that moment. At the words that came after, his stomach plummeted, immediately recognizing the fear that must have taken root in his beloved's mind when the thought first made itself known.

"I think I'm pregnant."

Astonished, it took him a few addled moments for everything to register clearly, the notion catching him by surprise. His features displayed shock before morphing into a look of fretful comprehension.

Rising, the raven quickly switched to sitting on the bed, unable to bear even a modicum of distance between them anymore. Not with Ritsu in this alarming state. His arms reached out and engulfed the trembling man, pulling him fiercely into his embrace, one hand tucked behind the other's head to anchor his lover against the crook of his neck. Masamune could hardly control the tenor of his actions, squeezing the brunet ungodly tight before slowly relinquishing some of the pressure. So long as there was a secure connection, he was appeased in that moment.

Ritsu's breaths fanned out against his bared skin, shaky and hinting at the tears still glistening on his face. Unbelievably yet mercifully, Masamune then sensed him shifting, hands seeking purchase against his chest. His body folded inward into the haven the elder had created, submitting entirely to the boundaries and becoming inert.

Moved by the trust he was being shown, Masamune couldn't help but to duck down and press a lingering kiss to the other's forehead. At the same he drew his arms closer around them both, indecisive again how snug he needed to feel his lover's body against his.

Whatever he could provide did absolutely nothing to quell the unease dominating his senses; until Ritsu was back to normal, he couldn't possibly be either. He was too distraught to make much of the fact that Ritsu was letting him hold him in a way that was exceedingly rare these days outside of when they made love.

Everything about the night so far struck him as wildly different from that first time long ago thatRitsu had told him he thought he could be carrying their child.

Onodera as a teenager was worlds apart from the Onodera of today. A few factors remained, but the core was distinctively altered. Yet sitting there, Takano couldn't help but to feel like he was cradling the ghost of his lover's younger self. He'd been intimidated by the prospect at that age too, though for reasons that didn't hold a candle to the ones traumatizing the brunet now.

"Whatever happens, I'm here," he soothed, fingers tangling into the caramel tresses to begin massaging the smaller male's head. "We can deal with whatever the truth is together."

"But I want you to know," separating for an instant to stare into the other's tear-soaked eyes, he emphasized, "if you are, what you want to do about it is _your_ choice. I will support any decision you come to. No one is going to force you to do anything you don't want."

Ritsu's heart was beating a samba in his chest at the impassioned speech; he could hardly express the overwhelming relief it gave him to hear that. That was what he was scared of, more than anything. It was probably silly of him to fear. He was an adult now, not a helpless child. No one could _make_ him do anything he was against doing. But, he still did fear. He couldn't rid himself of it, even in the face of reason.

Just then, the door to his hospital room slid open, a man garbed in navy blue scrubs striding through the opening. Judging by the clipboard he had tucked under one arm, and the stethoscope peeking out from one of his outfit's many pockets, he had to be one of the doctors in the ward.  
  
Retracting himself from the unseemly position he was engaged in, Onodera glanced up at the newcomer, pulse now racing for a completely different reason. Earlier, Takano had said they ran numerous tests while he was asleep, and that the results ought to be finalized. In a moment, it was likely that his theory would be confirmed, whether he was mentally prepared to hear it or not. About the only thing he could be grateful for was that he wouldn't be alone when the verdict came down.

"Onodera-sama," the man came to a stop next to his bed, "how are you feeling?"

"Fine," Ritsu hedged, staring into his lap rather than allowing his eyes to futilely dart in the clipboard's direction. It wasn't as if the answer he was searching for would be written there in gleaming red letters, obvious to the casual gaze.

"Your earlier symptoms, do you feel them any more? Heart racing, nausea, any pain?"

"No." Fidgeting slightly, the brunet tried to will himself to be calmer. ' _Patience_ ,' he urged, ' _he'll say it in a minute or two_.'

"That's good, then." The physician offered up a faint smile.  
  
"We believe you experienced a panic attack at that time, but you also have stomach flu, and you were a little dehydrated for what we'd like to see. The I.V. will have helped with that, however-"  
  
"Excuse me," Ritsu interrupted, heart rate fluttering obscenely as he made himself speak the words. "Could you tell me if... if I'm ... pregnant?"  
  
After accomplishing the harrowing sentence, he closed in on himself once more, braced for the forthcoming answer. Though Takano shifted audibly beside him, one hand coming to rest on his shoulder, in that single moment, he felt isolated from everyone else.  
  
The doctor's face turned puzzled, and after glancing back at the clipboard, he simply responded, "Well, I almost hate to tell you this when you seem so worked up, but... you aren't pregnant. I'm sorry."

' _What?_ '  
  
Brows knitting together, Ritsu silently returned his gaze to his lap, unwilling to open his mouth a second time, lest he say something hasty. Truth settled into his addled brain slowly, the words sifting down to the bottom of his over-saturated mind and resting there, neglected for the moment.  
  
It wasn't what he'd expected to hear. Not by a long shot.


	24. You're The One That I Want

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Characters/Pairings:** Egoist, Akihiko [Part One]; Trifecta [Part Two].

* * *

  **. . . EGOIST . . .**

 **(** October 19th, 2012 **)**

* * *

 

_Brrring. Brrring!_

Muttering darkly under his breath, Kamijou raced over to silence the blaring nuisance, collapsing into his desk chair when he managed to do so. Clicking to accept the call, the brunet held the phone up to his ear, snapping out a "Yes?" rather than a typical greeting. Though it was no fault of the caller, there was something about the phone ringing when he was far enough away from the device to have to run to catch it that always prickled at him.

"Hiroki," the voice on the other end spoke, immediately causing him to rise from his slump and sit ramrod straight.

"Akihiko."

With a scowl, Kamijou briefly considered hanging up on the royal. Akihiko and he hadn't talked since he'd called to inform him of the incident where his philandering had been discovered by Haruhiko. At the time, he'd repeatedly droned on about his frustrations surrounding it, and also his relief that everything was now out in the open.

From his friend Kamijou had also learned that the kid he'd been sleeping around with had been obstinate when it came to coming clean as he had pushed him to, so that they could make a break at being together. None of that information really surprised Hiroki. Everything that the prince had told him had made it clear that Akihiko was living in a dream world where only his desires took precedent. The future king was far from an imbecile intellectually, but when it came to dealing with the rest of the human race, he had no concept of what was proper.

"Well, what's the latest news in your saga with the brat?" he groused, bracing himself for the update.

What Usami assumed passed for a melancholy sigh pulsed into his ear.

"Oh, old man." Hiroki could feel his temper flare. "Everything is such a wreck right now." Akihiko paused, a light clicking noise emitting in the background. When was the moron going to realize how rude it was to smoke while in the middle of a conversation? "I want to marry Misaki, but I can't find him anywhere. I've checked all his usual spots, but I'm afraid I've had no luck."

Hiroki snorted. Perhaps the brat wasn't as stupid as he thought. He was about to retort some bit of snark when the dramatic royal continued.

"Even though I'm the prince, and I have more power than anyone else, it's against the law for us to marry without having the engagement between Haruhiko and he dissolved first. Though I'm searching for Misaki, I've also been considering going to Haruhiko and obtaining that annulment. It's already clear they're not going to be together, so I don't see why he wouldn't agree."

For a moment, Kamijou's jaw descended, because quite honestly, he hadn't thought it was possible to lack that much awareness.

True, Akihiko had always had most things handed to him on a silver platter given his station in life, but the guy should know better than to think he could waltz into a long-term relationship and expect it to end on his whim.

Even if the brat had willingly participated in their affair, that still didn't mean Takahashi's feelings were straightforward. The whole reason Misaki was in hiding was likely so he could sort out his muddled thoughts before moving on from everything. And Akihiko was failing to comprehend that.

Aside from that, the prince's imminent assertion to his brother was pure lunacy. Hiroki had a hunch at what Haruhiko's reaction would be when confronted with the idea, but he knew it would have repercussions beyond that which Akihiko would encounter from his sibling.

Perhaps the other Usami brother was heartbroken enough, or disgusted enough to agree to end his engagement. That still left Akihiko the task of explaining the circumstances to his paramour, and the second Misaki learned how he'd suddenly wound up single and available for the prince's hand in marriage, he was sure to protest.

If that was the strategy his friend meant to proceed with, Hiroki felt that there wasn't a chance in hell it was going to end favorably.

Unbidden, he recalled not too long ago, when that one pesky reporter had hunted for an answer on if he thought the prince's affair would have a felicitous conclusion. Back then, he could hardly guess, but unless Akihiko wised up and withdrew a little with the kid he was interested in, it was going to be cataclysmic when all was said and done.

As a friend, and at one point, an admirer, he wanted happiness for Usami. But that didn't mean he couldn't berate the idiot when he was poised to make an illogical decision. What he could do was offer up his best advice and hope that the stubborn man would take it to heart, but he knew he was fighting an uphill battle there.

Stamping down the more colorful phrases he wanted to employ, Kamijou settled for stating, "You can't do that, Akihiko. If you do, you're only going to alienate the brat you love, because I hate to tell you this, but he cares about your brother. He wouldn't have accepted the proposal in the first place if he didn't. If you upset Haruhiko further, Takahashi is not going to thank you for it. In fact you'll probably just drive him away."

Silence reigned on the other line, the prince absorbing his words. Hiroki hoped he was mulling them over, and with any chance of luck, realizing they were the truth.If Akihiko was set on denying his mistakes to the bitter end, then there was nothing more that he could do to rectify the situation.

"Hiroki... do you suppose that Misaki feels obligated to him? Is that why he's so hesitant to accept me, even though I've made it clear that I'll do whatever is necessary to pave the way to our future together?" 

"I don't know him, Akihiko. I couldn't tell you. But they were together first. Take that however you will. It might factor into his choice but it might not." Hiroki was growing weary of this conversation, but there was still some part of him that did care for the hopeless bastard he called his friend.

The silver-haired male paused, a shaky breath echoing a second later. When he spoke, his tone dropped a level, the quivering of it warping his words. "Misaki... he cares deeply about what other people think. I'm afraid he'll let that trait of his scare him away from taking the leap. Even if he loves me, it might not be enough. That's why I need to find him so we can talk it over together."

' _...do you think that Takahashi-kun loves Akihiko-oji in return? Will this be a happy ending, or, not so much?'_

Once more his memories dredged up a line from the interview, causing the noble to grimace into the emptiness of his home office. He could dole out nothing but his personal speculation on every aspect of this circus, but everyone seemed to value that more than it was worth. He didn't have all the answers, no matter how many questions a pensive Akihiko or nosy journalists posed to him. Frankly, Kamijou didn't want to be a part of the equation any more. It was dragging him down, and none of it was even happening to him directly.

But as ridiculous as the scandal was, years from now, the outcome would be a part of history.

One day, no matter how much he loathed the prospect, Usami would take the throne. Takahashi might well be the consort sitting by his side when that happened. Students in generations yet to come would read of the events in their textbooks, maybe marvel at how history could periodically be so colorful. How mundane would it all seem then, compared to the fuss it attracted currently?

If that marrying the kid was the future his companion wished to shape, Akihiko needed to mature. He couldn't carry on romancing Misaki in the same reckless, forceful manner. Showing Takahashi he could be sensitive to his feelings outside of the ones they shared for each other was a good first step.

"I'd say he's probably thinking very hard about what he'll do next, and that's why you can't find him. He doesn't want to be found, so stop looking. The kid can't disappear forever; sooner or later he'll resurface, and when he does, you'll know. If it's meant to be, then you can worry about legal stuff. I'd urge you not to have any contact with your brother in the meantime."

He could practically see the royal's expressions vacillating between confusion and comprehension. “Misaki doesn’t want to be found because I overwhelmed him.” Hiroki wanted to scoff at that. Was his friend finally allowing logic to shine through? “I simply embarrassed him by asking him to marry me.”

Kamijou’s eye twitched at how confident, how sated, and completely ignorant the prince’s tone was. He couldn’t be this obtuse, could he? Akihiko was a genius when it came to more technical subjects, but he had to have a slice of sound judgement in there somewhere.

How he was speaking was irrational, absolutely ludicrous, and made Hiroki wonder if he even knew what he was rambling on about. Did he honestly believe the brat was hiding because he was shy about his feelings for the royal? Either Akihiko was really thickheaded, or he was so far gone in his fantasy world, it was beginning to override reality.

This conversation had to cease before his sanity jumped ship.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about, Akihiko! I know you can be dense at times, but open your damn eyes! The kid is not hiding because of that!” The cowed silence on the other side was all he needed to push forward. “Look, unless you’ve decided to grasp reality, don’t call me again. Me lecturing you is not going to get anything through that skull of yours. Goodbye.”

He slammed the phone back down on the receiver with such a force that it nearly toppled from its cradle. Had that conversation just happened, or was it part of some screwed up illusion, even if it had occurred mere seconds ago? Kamijou wasn't sure what explanation he wanted to console himself with.

Akihiko was letting his mind grow addled with paranoia and false reassurances, and quickly at that. The brat was caught in a whirlwind of emotion with all he had been through. Even Hiroki realized that, and he had only listened to the absurd details from the infatuated prince. Akihiko was on the fast track to getting caught up in a mess of his own making, and he refused to acknowledge that, no matter how much evidence was right in front of his face.

As perturbed as he was about the situation, Hiroki had obtained one crucial epiphany. No longer was he wounded that Akihiko was investing a monumental amount of effort in pursuing someone who wasn’t him. He doubted he could handle the royal’s insane courting methods if they were like what he had just witnessed, but none of it mattered because he had someone else who thought the world of him.

While Nowaki didn't cut an imposing figure, the raven did harbor his own uniquely admirable traits. For one, he was incredibly captivating, with his wispy dark locks, cerulean eyes, sensual full lips…. Hiroki’s thoughts came to a screeching halt, his cheeks ablaze and heart stampeding. Now was not the time to become lost in those types of images, but it couldn’t be helped. Each time he thought of his lover, his pulse would race, his palms would sweat, and any intelligent thought he might have had was reduced to mush.

Yet the raven’s intentions were nothing but pure. Kusama’s selflessness had no limit, his kind-hearted personality delighting everyone who came into contact with him. To speak as a whole, the guy was pretty much perfect in Kamijou’s eyes. One of a caring nature, hard-working, and who truly wanted the best for him without expecting anything in return. Someone whom he'd initially found irritating was now someone he could never see himself ever parting from.

The musing brought him back to the situation that started all this. He couldn’t begin to comprehend what the elder Usami sibling was experiencing, nor did he want to. Picturing someone trying to seduce Nowaki made his stomach churn, the sour sensation easily bringing a bitterness into his throat and stinging his lips with acid.

The thought was nauseating, and too painful to even put into a pretend scenario. What Akihiko was doing to his brother was wrong on so many levels. To take away someone another person loved, and not only loved, but was planning to marry!

Never had he despised his childhood friend like he had in recent weeks.

Being together for years was one thing, but bonding your lives together with a proposal was another. Hiroki had never been the sentimental type, but between the lonely years he had spent with Akihiko and now his mental discussion with himself about the royal’s behavior, he was slowly starting to reconsider.

Would it be so terrible to settle down? He had never given the idea too much thought, not even when Nowaki had confidently stated that one day he would be his husband. The words rang clearly in his memory, inspiring a shiver to course down his spine.

Perhaps it had been the situation with the prince to push him, perhaps not. Maybe he had been considering the option for a while now, and had never had the motivation to follow through with it. But he burned to show Nowaki that his feelings were reciprocated. That he wasn’t the only one who harbored intense emotions about the other, that he wasn’t the only one that missed him like crazy when he wasn’t in his sights, that Nowaki wasn’t alone in wanting them to be together for forever.

It wasn’t anything to do with the fear of the raven’s attention being captured by another man, or the fact they would finally get to sate the sexual frustration that Kamijou was sure was pretty much at its peak, but more so, he was now confident Nowaki was the one he wanted to tie himself to.

And in doing so, Hiroki resolved that he would take the initiative. After all, Nowaki had been the one to ask him on their first date, the one who'd suggested they move in together, and the one to kiss him. Anything to do with their relationship, from the start, Nowaki had always been the one to brave each step.

Now it was his turn. His turn to prove to his lover that he was equally devoted by asking him the most hallowed of questions.

Encapsulated by his musings, he didn’t realize he was no longer alone until he heard the door close. He listened as the soft padding of socked feet touched on the floorboards, making their way to where he resided. Hiroki clenched the pen he had grabbed out of nerves, nearly squirting a dose of black ink on his pale attire. This was it. Within seconds Nowaki would be bounding through his office door to see him.

Only this time there was going to be a slight alteration to the routine.

Kamijou snapped from his thoughts and began to shuffle through the many papers covering his desk. By some mercy, did he have something written down that would make this easier? Somewhere along the line when Nowaki had wooed him into that state, he must have written some proposal, any set of words that could help him along the way. Right?

“Hiro-san.”

Once more his lover had snuck up on him, hauling him from his qualms. Quickly pushing aside the clutter, he rose from his chair to meet the raven halfway, not at all surprised when he was pulled into his embrace. Nowaki’s heat felt inviting, temporarily numbing his sense of awareness and wrapping snugly around him. His voice croaked, the words becoming lost in a void of uneasiness when he realized he was already fumbling in his plan.

“Welcome home,” he mumbled, hand pressed against the other’s chest. Nowaki’s pulse beat in a smooth rhythm beneath his fingertips, and by contrast made him realize how thundering his own was.

The raven smiled, the simple action causing Hiroki’s heart to pound even louder. Fingers grazed his cheek, sliding downward until they curled around his jaw. Nowaki’s head bent to his level to complete their greeting. He watched as his lover’s eyes fluttered closed, his lips only seconds from touching upon his own.

So he could only imagine the other man’s surprise when Nowaki met his palm instead of connecting with his mouth. Wiggling out of his embrace, Hiroki knew he was enhancing his lover’s confusion, but asking this was bothersome enough. Nowaki’s admittedly pleasant distraction was only magnifying his dilemma.

He inhaled sharply, shakily releasing the gust of air. His heart felt as though it was about to jackhammer through the walls of his chest, or expel from his throat, whichever came first. Why was this so difficult? He had set the plan into motion, he was perfectly ready to take the leap moments ago, but now that Nowaki was actually standing there, he was beginning to reconsider.

His mind quickly shifted back to the conversation with the prince, and his fears loomed greater than before. He didn’t want to lose Nowaki, he refused to hand him over to another, and by doing this, he would prevent that from ever happening. Hiroki swallowed thickly, sienna eyes locking on the bewildered blue set, the worry etched on the raven’s face increasing his guilt, as if the quantity wasn’t massive enough already.

“Nowaki, I….”  

Kusama's eyes were staring at him, concern reflecting in the cerulean depths. He had circumvented their kiss, which evidently worried his lover, and now he was stumbling over his words. If he didn’t act decisively, Nowaki was going to question his motives, and his plan would be derailed.

There was no turning back.

“Nowaki, will you… marry me…?”

Kamijou was certain he had never seen the raven’s eyes widen as much as they did then. His lover took a step back, his jaw slowly descending until his mouth was agape, instantly reminding him of a fish out of water. Nowaki's features then cambered into a beaming arc, the most luminous Hiroki had ever witnessed since they'd been together, and he was yanked forward, a protest barely expelling as he was crushed into the solidity of his chest.

“Hiro-san!” Those vivid depths were now misty, churning with tears. “Of course I will!”

The professor ignored the compressed sensation surrounding him to indulge in the glow of being accepted.

Truth be told, he knew Nowaki would say yes. But now they could begin their journey together, side by side as they had been thus far, only bonded on a level that filled his heart with such love and anticipation that Hiroki was having a difficult time describing it.

If he endeavored to put it into words, he was at peace, as though a large burden he hadn't been aware he was carrying had been lifted from him.

Vaguely he felt himself literally being elevated, but he paid it no mind. It wasn’t until the surface of the desk had collided with his backside that he took notice. Nowaki hovered over him, eyes still cloudy from his budding emotions, and leaned down to gently seal the gap between them.

The brunet welcomed it entirely, his arms wrapping around the taller man’s back, and pulling him as close as physically possible. Normally he would have lectured Nowaki about carrying out intimate gestures in ridiculous spots such as this, but right now he couldn’t agree with his actions more.

His heart soared as their lips met again and again, parting slightly, but refusing to delve further. Nowaki’s lips were as silky as ever, brushing against his slightly dry ones, the result of his constant biting of them as he'd sorted through his thoughts. His fingers combed through the inky locks above, allowing the strands to slide between the spaces before he reached to tangle them once more. Nowaki’s eyes were shuttered, while his were only halfway so, yearning to watch the blissful expression of the one he adored.

Slowly the younger man's eyes inched open, causing a flush to spread across Hiroki’s nose at being caught. Instead of facing the music, he whirled his mind to come up with something that would save him from the embarrassment of gazing at Kusama during their tender union.

“Thank you,” he mumbled out, red-faced, “For choosing me.”

Nowaki parted their embrace, edging backward to where their noses slightly touched. Handsome as he was, Kamijou had never had his breath taken away like he did when he looked at him now. His lover then graced him with another amiable smile, before that sweet voice that managed to hypnotize him with the simplest of words was resonating in his ear.

"I knew from the moment I saw Hiro-san that I would always choose him."

 

* * *

**. . . TRIFECTA . . .**

**(** July 21st, 2012 **)**

* * *

 

Yokozawa generally didn't give a fig about his social life. He led a solitary existence outside of work with minor exceptions. There were his business contacts he went out with, and a whole clan of family members to pester him into the occasional celebration, but otherwise he was content to go it alone.

What little options he had for outreach had failed, however, leaving him to languish in the pitiful situation that he found himself in presently.

"Phew, finally seems like it's cooling down! And here I thought summer was going to drag on and bake us all."

Takafumi echoed a scoffing noise in the back of his throat.

"Says the guy who gets to do his job inside an air-conditioned building while others do theirs  _in_  that heat," he countered archly.

Stalking off, he completed the trek across the backyard patio and claimed a seat. Beside him, Kirishima did the same, each man laying down their plate on the glass tabletop and settling in. Later evening was upon them, the brief stretch of time between when the sun burned the hottest and when it set, allowing night to fade in with its stark plunge in temperature.

Today's weather had managed to hit all the sweet spots, the mercury never creeping up too high and a soft breeze had whisked through, lulling everyone into a peaceful state. Being that was the case, they'd elected to share their dinner outside.

Granted he had nowhere better to be, but if someone had told him this was how he'd spend his weekend, he might have protested. Weeks ago, anyway.

Lately it felt like Zen and he had built a decent rapport, one that didn't revolve around the strife that had launched them into their current arrangement. He sincerely doubted the elder had given up on them advancing in their relationship, but he'd managed to mask the sentiment well. And when Takafumi brushed aside the ruins of that earlier attempt, they could speak to each other on numerous levels.

Work was a neutral topic to circle back to if all else failed, but it wasn't the sole one up for conversation.

Politics, items in the news, their vastly different childhoods - all those and more the two men found themselves discussing. They'd even buried the hatchet deep enough to go back to their old routine of sampling sake at the capitol's many restaurants, stumbling into lively debates when the liquor took charge. During those escapades, he nearly forgot why they'd ever become estranged.

"Before we dig in, I'd like to get something serious out of the way."

Immediately Yokozawa's radar perked up. Though the brunet had a penchant for putting on airs, when it came to business he was matter-of-fact. Serious wasn't an adjective he'd employ lightly, so whatever the noble wanted to discuss had to be important. Narrowing down the possibilities, he wasn't certain if he'd like the turn their talk would take or not.

Then again, he felt like whatever it was, he could land on his feet. Takafumi wasn't as high-strung when it came to their personal matters anymore, and he'd known that one day they'd have to be addressed. He had prepared himself for that. He'd probably never be fully composed, but he was sedate as he reasonably could be.

"And what's that?" he prompted the other man, setting down his fork.

Kirishima drummed his fingers on the table's surface, the downward crease of his mouth projecting a conflicted mien. Though he'd gained the younger male's undivided attention, he wasn't immediately forthcoming, choosing to look torn for a spell. Raising a brow at his suspect behavior, Takafumi wondered how grave the subject was for it to be that arduous for him to verbalize.

"There was something else I wanted to do for you for your birthday, but it ended up taking longer to finalize than I thought."

Briefly he tuned out as he reminsced about the day in question.

He'd woken up at some ungodly juncture to attend an early meeting that had been demanded by his superiors at the last minute, and started the morning off in the foulest of moods.

That was, until Hiyori bounded into his bedroom not long after he'd dragged himself into a vertical position. The girl's honeyed mane had been tousled from sleep, and she'd still been wearing her pajamas, but despite the hour, a gleaming smile had dominated her features. Proudly, she'd presented himself with a card she'd crafted on her own and a bag of sweets to accompany it, claiming she wanted the distinction of being the first to wish him a happy birthday.

Shortly after her intrusion, her father had capered in to add his congratulations, yawning immediately afterward. Seeing how bedraggled the pair of them were, Yokozawa hadn't had it in his heart to remain truculent. Though it was his birthday, neither of them were obligated to cut their rest short to catch him before he went in to work, and yet they had. Small a gesture as it was, he'd been pretty touched.

Returning that evening from work with the new briefcase Zen had gifted him, he was treated to a special dinner at their place and served all his favorites. Thankfully so, as the last thing he wanted was to go out and be embarassed by a flock of singing waiters or anything similarly horrific. Being at home to celebrate, even if it wasn't really  _his_  home, was far more appeasing to him.

However, the largest and most winsome factor of the day, was that Kirishima had been impeccably well behaved. An act that had initially made him wary, waiting for the teasing he knew must be on its way. But it never came, and oddly, it seemed that even the brunet knew when was it was appropriate to curb his childish acts. The rest of the time had passed uneventfully.

Taking the many kindnesses he'd already been shown into account, the raven moved to protest, but at the answering look on the older man's face, he relented. Still taken aback, Yokozawa's brows furrowed as he waited for whatever bomb Zen was planning on dropping to implode.  
  
"I can't fix my past mistakes, but the more I thought about it, I knew there was something in my reach. So I went to my attorney and had our engagement voided. As of today, there are no legal ties binding us together. You're free."

Takafumi ghosted a curt laugh, fingers mindlessly seeking out his utensil once more. Grabbing the thing, he speared a bite of meat, eyes briefly darting across to gauge Kirishima's expression.

Zen's features were wrinkled with confusion, lips twitching as though to deliver some response, though none emerged. Was he  _that_  surprised that Yokozawa hadn't reacted to his prank? It was in questionable taste, joking about something so sensitive, even if they were getting along these days. There were just some subjects better left alone.

The salesman wasn't about to kid himself that because they could now spend an evening together and have it be cordial that all their issues were resolved. Kirishima was far too stubborn to have let go of him that easily, even if the man had displayed some concern for his feelings. Likely, the elder wouldn't release him until he was satisfied that there was absolutely no chance of them ever being together.

He thought it was a shame that was the case, because without this ridiculousness between them, he could've seen them being close friends. Fate had brought them together initially, given they hadn't crossed paths too often at work, but their personalities played well off each other. Eventually, when they severed the contract between them, perhaps they could build that type of relationship.

Perhaps not, but one could hope. Takafumi knew all too well the difficulties of transitioning from love to friendship. It was hell for the one whose feelings overreached what the other half was comfortable with. Zen could easily decide he wasn't up to the task and kick him to the curb.

_Thwap._

Looking up from his meal, he quirked a brow at the childish sight of the older male slamming his glass against the table to snag his attention. What was he, five and hesitant to use his words?

"Yokozawa, I want you to listen to me," he stated, voice notably rougher around the edges, lending it a commanding air. Straightening up in his seat, Takafumi blankly nodded, feeling like now he was the disoriented one. Kirishima was on the brink of some tantrum, and he couldn't fathom why.

"Go ahead," he eked out, making eye contact to seal his obedience.

"I'm not sure what you thought just now, but that was the truth. If you feel it's in your best interests, you can move out, do whatever you want. I'm not keeping you here. Nor am I forcing you out if you opt to stay, but the ball's in your court now."

"What?"

The word flew from his tongue, exposing his bewilderment to the evening air. The fork that had been in his hand rattled as it collided with the edge of his plate before coming to rest.

Various thoughts flooded the raven's mind, rousing a veritable maelstrom of reactions within. At first, he wasn't sure which one would prove victorious over the others. Chief among them was his shock that he was being let go when he'd anticipated an extended captivity. Then there was the more pressing issue of what his father would say when he found out about the annulment.

Given how hard he'd pushed for this farce to happen, practically shoving him into Kirishima's outstretched arms by making him move in with the man, Takafumi knew he was in for a scolding if he returned home single.

The thought pissed him off royally, but he was being realistic. He'd failed at being tied down. His sire wasn't going to empathize with his feelings, or be glad that Kirishima had done the right thing in letting him go.

Swallowing to clear the blockage in his throat, the salesman attempted to steady himself to investigate further. Serious was an understatement when he hearkened back to Kirishima's phrasing prior to opening the topic. It was a huge change in his fortunes specifically.

"Just to be clear, we're not engaged. That's what you're saying. That's over now?"

"Yes, that's 'over' now," Zen answered. "I guess it's up to you whether you want to continue living here or not. There's no reason you have to, but," he paused, once more drumming his fingers restlessly, "it's more convenient for you, you know? Free rent and all that. If it'd make it easier, you can pick a different bedroom in the house so you don't have to be right next door to me. We can make it work."

Dropping his gaze, the elder took a long swig of beer, fingers curling around the can. Across from him, Yokozawa felt his appetite visibly wane. 

It was the news he'd yearned to receive in the future, but instead, it was taking place at that very moment. He wasn't sure how to contend with the myriad decisions the development would create for him.

"I'll have to think about it, but thank you," he settled for saying. He didn't possess the proper words to match how he felt, and insight wasn't about to fall from the sky, so those ones would have to suffice.

"That's fine, I kind of figured you'd want to stew on it. No rush."

Silence reigned then, each man turning his attention to eating and drinking for the next few minutes. Takafumi's thoughts were racing. Should he leave? His family wouldn't welcome him back at this point, or at least his parents wouldn't. Living with one of his sisters would be a pain, and the commute would be unwieldy traveling into the city from the countryside.

At the same time, staying where he was felt like he was leading Kirishima on, and that wasn't his intention. They'd already made plenty of mistakes between the two of them and he was trying not to add any more to the heap if he could avoid it. But there was a final factor compounding his decision.

"What do you plan on telling Hiyori?" he queried, catching the elder in the midst of finishing his drink.

"The truth. That we need more time to think about whether we want to move forward with this, or go our separate ways."

Trying to bury the unease in his heart, Takafumi gathered his next words cautiously.

"Guess it wouldn't be fair of me to ask if saying that wouldn't just upset her. Either way, it's going to because I've been living here and she's gotten used to that."

Pushing his can to the side of the table, Kirishima looked thoughtful, oddly so. It was impossible for the raven to suss what his mood was. From one moment to the next, that much seemed to alter, drifting between the unnatural calm he was displaying, the flash of anger he'd witnessed earlier, and the melancholy that Takafumi believed was genuine.

"Hiyo's a mature kid. I think she'll understand why. Actually, another reason I wanted to take care of this was because of her. When she's older, I hope she can look back and see that while her dear dad made mistakes, he wasn't arrogant enough not to try and correct them. I didn't go about this the way I should have, and I see that now."

Rising from the table, the elder strode over to the cooler sitting out on the patio and crouched down beside it. Yokozawa watched him deliberate for a spell, poring over the various brands before tugging out another kind of beer than the one he'd been nursing previously. When Zen stood, it was then that the uncomfortable feeling nudging at him finally clarified itself.

He'd been acting peculiar throughout the conversation, radiating a forced nonchalance.

Frankly Yokozawa never would have expected to be discussing this over a casual dinner, so that was one part of it. And when the time came, he'd imagined Kirishima would be far more emotional than how he was conducting himself. The placid manner in which they were talking made him uneasy. He felt like Kirishima was concealing something from him, even if it was only his true feelings and nothing worrisome. If that was the case though, then why bother?

Much as he'd hated being corralled into their engagement originally, the apologetic bent Kirishima had been on lately was downright annoying.

Yes, he was glad Zen was owning up to the fact that he'd made a moronic decision. But Takafumi felt like he was being treated like glass to compensate for everything, and that wasn't what he wanted. Hell, it would have been preferable for them to bicker about a potential annulment than the stilted talk they were having.

Like it or not, he knew the bastard had feelings potent enough to drive him to the blunder he had made. But now, Kirishima was trying to pretend like those didn't exist, or didn't matter, simply so he wasn't stepping on his toes any longer. The whole charade he was putting on was utter bullshit, and Yokozawa wasn't sure how much more of it he was willing to quietly listen to. 

While he was busy analyzing everything, the brunet returned, dropping back into his seat and popping open the new drink. Sensing another lull in their dialogue, the younger took the chance to choke down some more of his dinner. Truth be told, he wasn't hungry, the food was merely a prop to keep himself from staring daggers at his companion until he spit out what he really wanted to say.

"I really do need to apologize to you, Yokozawa." Zen veiled his discomfort behind the rim of his beverage, taking another anxious sip. "I screwed up your life by trying to make you match my pace. I didn't consider the consequences my actions would have because I wanted to hurry up and make you mine."

Reclining backward, Takafumi let the apology swirl within him, not yet ready to respond. Aside from not knowing what to say, he could practically sense that the other man wasn't done speaking, even if he didn't look especially eager to continue.

"...Being with you made me happy in a way that I haven't been for years. It's not that I was depressed before you came along, but something was missing, and no matter how good the rest of my life was, naturally I yearned for that part too. Someone I could spend it with. And no one had ever come close to that since my wife passed away. Admittedly I wasn't looking for someone, but once I got to know you, Yokozawa, it felt right."

And there it was.

Takafumi lowered his gaze, suddenly unable to withstand the force of the older man's stare. For the most fleeting of instants, the ardor had been transparent, plain to witness, and yet he couldn't comprehend his own reaction. His heart wasn't pounding erratically like some shoujo heroine, but neither was he repulsed. Tentatively flattered, and relieved to hear the truth of everything at last. 

For them, there hadn't really been a confession, a specific moment where Zen had relayed his feelings. They'd spent their time together; unwilling as he was to say it, there had been an attraction blossoming right before the editor had decided to quash that by proposing. Yokozawa had been blindsided then, and whatever feelings he'd held had morphed into anger. Messed up as the situation was, it gave him some semblance of closure to hear Kirishima's half of the story.

"So I wanted to make sure you were off the market. Not realizing at the time that it didn't matter. Just because I tried to claim you didn't mean you'd choose to love me. Even if Takano had been married, it wouldn't have changed anything. Ultimately you're free to give your heart to whomever you want, whether they're available or not. I was impatient and stupid. And I'm still a little bit selfish because I hope in time, now that I've let go of everything, you'll forgive me."

He could hear the sincerity in those utterings. It was evident Kirishima had been reflecting on them for a long time, likely poring over his feelings with a magnifying glass so he could better express himself. Zen had as much pride as he he did, and he was verbally prostrating himself now. That in itself was telling. 

"It isn't selfish, and I'll consider forgiving you," he declared.

"You will?" Some of the solemnity on Kirishima's face vanished, his tone hopeful.

"As long as you stop assuming what I'm going to do or how I feel, and just ask me if you don't know, idiot. Treat me like a person and I won't have anything to complain about."

Inspiration flourished, lending him his next words.

"We're roommates, aren't we? Make it work, like you said earlier. I don't want to upset Hiyo by moving out."

The frown that had been creasing the older man's lips slackened, giving rise to a shadow of his usual grin. He continued to preen like an idiot, gracing Takafumi with nothing but silence until he finally realized he was being scrutinized. Kirishima then laughed lightly, and dived in to speak again.

"Geez, who would have thought something good would have come out of us breaking up?"

"Excuse me?"

"You're staying," Kirishima pointed out cheerfully.

Feeling a traitorous heat well up inside him, Yokozawa grimaced. "For now," he answered, tugging his own drink up to his lips to cleanse his palate.

The liquid burned his throat with how quickly it rolled down, barely easing how erratic his breathing had become. Why had he let that slip? It was what he decided for the time being, wasn’t it? He just didn’t want the other to know that straight away, not until he had a better plan of action in mind. But now the truth was out in the open, all because he'd felt a surge of pity. He truly was pathetic.

"Anyway, why are you so damn happy? That's all I said I'm doing."

"Because I love you," Zen stated bluntly, tone packed with boldness.

The raven subsequently choked on air, eyes bulging from the shock coursing through his system. What the hell? One minute he'd been downtrodden and apologetic, and now he was spouting off sappy admissions without a care in the world?

Gaping in response, his eyes scanned over him, trying in vain to figure out where the declaration had stemmed from. It wasn't the first time tonight Kirishima's words had lacked a logical anchor; if anything, each successive line seemed flavored by a new kind of emotion.

"What's with you?" Takafumi inquired, feeling his gaze narrow from the oddness of it all.

"Just saying how I feel."

"Since when have you been so... obvious about it?" he parried. "I don't think I've ever heard those exact words come out of your mouth."

"It is obvious though."

"Whatever."

Already he could tell this line of questioning was going to be worse than trying to squeeze answers out of a brick wall.

"Could've fooled me," he grumbled further, glaring at the editor from his vantage. If there  _was_  anything evident, it was the bizarre atmosphere rippling between them that evening. Compared to earlier on in the night, he felt more irritated than gracious toward his ex fiancé. 

Readying his cup, he paused abruptly when the vessel touched his lips. Throwing another glance Zen's way, he let himself ruminate on the suspicion that broadcast through his mind in that instant.

"Out of curiosity, what number is that for you?" he asked, flicking his hand toward the elder's beverage. "All together, if you started before dinner."

Kirishima granted him a glassy stare and shrugged his shoulders, expression devoid of clues.

"Hmm, not sure," was the flippant answer he received. "Why's it matter?"

"Because you sound like a moron, so I was wondering how drunk you already are."

Casting the accusation aside, Zen reached for his drink again, arm wobbling as his hand scouted the cluttered surface. His spare was gripping the edge of the table to steady himself when his fingers successfully curled around the can. Pausing, he gazed at it as though charting his next move.

Across from him, Takafumi had ceased his own dining to absorb the scene, debating whether he wanted to trek to the other side and pull the man back into his seat, or if it wasn't worth getting up.

But before he could choose, Zen advanced, attempting to lift the can from its perch. His arm quivered, fingers losing their traction as the beer slipped from his grasp. The amber liquid spilled across the table, splaying in every direction and gliding toward where his companion was seated. Immediately, the elder stood, keen on containing the damage.

“Sorry,” he half mumbled, half chuckled, “I’ll get that.”

Locating one of the extra napkins nearby, he began mopping it up. Yokozawa watched as he once more knocked the can over along with a few bottles of sauce. Rising and crossing to the other side, he halted the man’s hand. Kirishima leveled him a confused stare, fingers gripping the soaked cloth.

“I think that’s enough fun for you,” Takafumi huffed, inwardly shaking his head. “Right now you need to lay down.”

Zen didn’t seem to pay the advice any heed, waving a hand to dismiss the entire matter. But the alcohol was making quick work of him, flowing through his veins and surging skywards. His mind was fuzzy, brain having a difficult time in processing what was transpiring. The words he spoke seemed clear to him, but what they were really expelling as made it plain he was losing the war, and fast.

“I’m fine,” he slurred, “Don’t act like I can’t handle my drink.”

Was what he thought he'd said, but instead it sounded like a bunch of gibberish.

Takafumi fixated on his staggering form, following closely as the brunet squirmed out of his grip and attempted to seat himself. But the second he inched a step ahead, as predicted, Kirishima stumbled, toppling backwards and landing on the hard ground with a resounding thump. He was briefly stunned, lips then curving to crack a smile, his low voice slipping through before he tossed his head back in a gale of laughter.

“Whoops! I think I missed there.”

It was then that Yokozawa decided this meal was officially over and the brunet needed to be contained, whether he agreed or not. Ignoring the giggling from the foolish man he found himself in charge of, Takafumi leaned down to reaffirm his grasp. But Zen wasn’t making that endeavor easy, his arm flinging forward to try to push his way out of it.

“I said I was fine, didn’t I?” he slurred, “I don’t need to be taken to bed.”

Again the words sounded nothing like what he was hearing, nor were they going to be enough to change the raven's plan. Carefully he circled his arm around the other’s waist, allowing one of Kirishima’s arms to loop around his neck before elevating him from the floor. The elder moved sluggishly, no longer putting up a fight, and allowed himself to be carried inside from the patio.

But the trip wasn’t as smooth as Yokozawa had hoped. Each step of the way, Zen continued to drag, nearly tripping the other male mid stride with his erratic pace. His resolve to help in the process waxed and waned, making it laborious apart from when Takafumi correctly predicted his active moments.

"Come on, move your feet. We're almost there," he encouraged in monotone, tugging on his arm to pull him along.

It had been a stroke of luck on his part that he had the sense to drag him before his consciousness was entirely diminished. Lugging around the dead weight of someone his size would be near impossible solo, or maybe he would have made it, but likely not without straining a serious muscle in the attempt. While it was difficult now, the alternative would have been far worse.

"You're taking care of me," he slurred, shooting the raven a lopsided grin, "lucky me!"

"Yeah, someone has to."

Yanking him a few more steps down the hall, Takafumi gusted a sigh of relief when his fingers made contact with the door to the elder's bedroom.

Soon enough, this whole nuisance would be settled, and perhaps he could get some rest of his own.

Before he'd gone incoherent, Kirishima had given him several ideas to consider, and he could get a headstart on pondering those before he went to sleep. A decision would take more time to cobble together, but Yokozawa had to admit that the reversal was sinking in. He was free. Maybe he would continue to live there, but the expectations that had bound him like shackles were gone.

Crossing the threshold, he let go of his charge, leaving him to occupy himself off to the side while he fixed the bed for the man to collapse into. Arranging the covers halfway open and the pillows propped up, he then guided him the rest of the way and aided him onto the mattress. 

"Stay put," he warned, "you're not cleared to walk anywhere until you've slept some of this off."

Kirishima gazed at him solemnly in the next few moments, seeming like he was building himself up to protest.

Summarily, he opted not to, instead cozying into the luxurious offering of his bed without another rebellious word. Tugging the covers over his body obediently, he let his eyes relax, half-closed as the silence persisted.

Convinced his work was through, Yokozawa cleared out any lingering thoughts and prepared to leave. Despite the way it nagged at his conscience, he figured he would let the servants handle the remainder of the clean-up outside. He was hardly in the mood to attend to the mess, and it was their job besides. He had done enough already.

Inching toward the exit to the room, he was almost home free until a hand shot out to grasp his wrist.

"Don't leave," he was crooned to in a shaky voice, Zen's heavy lids weighing down his otherwise pouty stare. "You have to watch me more."

Salvaging his independence by gliding a step farther away, he retorted wearily, "Settle down. Just get some rest."

Takafumi only received another petulant look, Zen none too happy about being abandoned. He scoffed at the older man's selfish response, taking a moment to realize what a mess he'd made of himself.

Granted even on a normal day, Kirishima was a tyrant when it came to monopolizing his attention, but this string of events was taking the cake. A seemingly normal dinner marred by the huge reveal given during, and later by the aftermath of Zen's idiotic method of bolstering his confidence to deliver said announcement.

With one last glance at the bed, Yokozawa quietly left, pulling the door shut before heading toward his own room. Pausing at the entrance, he glanced back down the hall as though reconsidering before altering his path. Upon reaching the bathroom, he rifled through the medicine cabinet for the bottle of aspirin that he knew the guy would need when he awoke later.

Recovering a glass from a neighboring shelf, he filled it halfway with water from the tap, gauging the probability of it getting knocked over to be high. The less mess to clean up the better. Once done, he took both the medicine and cup in hand and headed back down the hall, easing the bedroom door open as soundlessly as possible. The sound of soft snores whisked through his ears, and Takafumi nearly cracked a smile, knowing there would be peace for the next few hours.

After carrying out his last good act of the day, the raven absconded to his room, gratefully taking to the comfort of his own mattress. As soon as his back hit the firm surface, a wave of fatigue washed over him, probably the tradeoff for hauling Kirishima's inebriated ass inside.

Toying with the clasps on his trousers, he vaguely wondered if he should expend the energy to stand and undress, or attempt to do it laying down. The latter prospect was incredibly enticing, and after another minute or two, he decided to forge ahead with it. A few more grueling intervals, and the deed was accomplished.

Now down to a level of clothing he could comfortably pass out in, Yokozawa let his eyes slip closed, various trains of thought attacking him the instant the darkness flooded his view. Hovering in a state of mixed cognizance, he replayed some of the larger highlights from the day. 

The foremost among them being that he was unattached.

No longer would he have to evade unwanted thoughts of when the day would arrive that his family, Zen, or gods knew who else would push for them to seal off that bond with the real thing. He wouldn't be getting married any time soon, if ever. Aside from that, he couldn't help but question if being boxed into the arrangement was the reason behind his extreme dislike toward the subject. But now that it was dissolved, a little of his respect for Kirishima had rekindled. There was no benefit for the guy in doing that, so he knew he'd done so purely for his sake.

By the behavior he had seen tonight, Yokozawa was almost positive this wasn't what the brunet wanted.

Zen was far from a selfless individual, often at times, the complete opposite. Even if he often meant well, when it came to his own interests, he found it challenging to be impartial. He'd pursue what he yearned for shamelessly, only curtailing his actions when there was a prevailing reason to. Takafumi didn't doubt that the decision to sever their bond was one that the elder had wrestled with before complying. 

Judging by the chaos of the night, doing the right thing had only barely edged out the man's desire to keep him close. Still, he was content. Whatever the truth, it was done, and a fraction of the stress that he'd been carrying on his shoulders had abated at long last.

Adjusting the pillow behind him, the raven settled in further. Tomorrow was a day off for the both of them, so he'd have the treat of sleeping in to whatever lofty hour his internal clock would allow. 

' _A day off_ ,' he repeated inwardly, a frown dancing upon his features. Good as it sounded, he did have to worry what kind of situation he'd be waking up and being put into. Kirishima's antics would render him ineffective for the earlier part of the morning, but as soon as he sobered up, Yokozawa knew they were due for a serious discussion.

Would that happen though?

Perhaps it would, perhaps not. Perhaps he was even overthinking it. Really, the larger problem had been quashed by him breaking off their engagement. All that remained was figuring out where he would be staying, and what the current status of their relationship became now that those legal dominoes had come crashing down. Were they dating? Friends? Room mates? He had a grip on what the other would yearn to hear, but Takafumi wasn't certain where his own head was at.

Curiously, the longer he'd been living here, the longer he'd interacted with Kirishima after brushing aside the shitty reality of everything, his venom had steadily diminished. 

Friends wasn't a stretch, but if he was being honest, it didn't fit what they had perfectly. Tailored well to some corners, it missed others completely.

He could almost pity Zen, for he knew intimately what it was like to hold back, to settle for what little of a relationship you were allowed to hold onto, and it was incredibly bleak. But he also knew he wasn't ready to admit to those other facets he was beginning to feel. Feelings he couldn't let him know of because Takafumi himself was still rather confused about them.

The last thing he wanted was to build the elder's hopes back up only to have them topple a second time. Rather, he'd sit back and let everything develop however it would naturally, as they should have tried from the start. 

Kirishima might have initiated their relationship, but he had the responsibility of choosing where it went next.


End file.
